Only You
by VicarAmelia
Summary: Genevieve had lived a long life. She had watched every conflict during her time and did her best to help the defenseless to atone for her mistakes. When she encounters HYDRA during WWII she does her best to thwart them; can she escape her past and protect her future? BuckyXOCXLoki Goes through CA:TFA to CW. Possible triggers from Ch. 10 onward. Smut later on. Under revision.
1. The Beginning

"Keep weaving, sisters." The woman rasped, spilling wet sand onto the roots of the great tree.

"What once could have been will never be," a girl chanted, her chains rattling as she tried to move. "You who could have been debt…"

"Skuld," another gasped out, tugging at the metal wrapped around her ankle.

"A debt must be paid." They all said in unison. "Eternal life is not yours to keep."

* * *

The city loomed in front of her as she walked with two suitcases in her hand. Skyscrapers jumped out of the ground casting long shadows on the streets below; so many cities had fallen in her lifetime. Mankind's long winded battle for survival, her hazel eyes had seen it all.

She looked briefly upon the city squinting as the sun peered from behind one of the tall buildings; thinking about how long this civilization would last. It was so young compared to the giants of the past. It seemed right to move here after living throughout most of Europe and the Middle East; she had lived in a small home in Iraq before coming to New York City overlooking the river. Now she had a small apartment overlooking the Hudson. Her shoes clicked against the concrete stairs as she walked to her new home.

The world was getting quieter and maybe for a few years she could live here. She wondered how long she would have to take a breath; she smiled to herself as the word 'decade" ran through her mind and she laughed softly. After wandering the world for as long as she had she knew that would never be the case. It could never be quiet for that long.

Throughout her life she had been empires rise and fall within a blink of an eye. Heavy thoughts…

She dropped her bags onto the floor, books spilling out of them. Traveling was always like this; exhausting and always reminding her of how many times she had done this before. The apartment was a bleak with a large bookcase that had already been consumed by books, a canopy bed draped with old sheer fabrics that had small faded flowers climbing upward, and more books scattered the floor. Tapestries crowded the walls being illuminated by small lamps. She let her body plop down onto the bed and kicked her boots off. A heavy sigh echoed throughout the room. She could use a nap after the twenty hours she had spent on the plane and that's not even including the traveling to a Turkish Airport.

The past few years had been some of the most bloody she had seen; she never rested. There was always someone who needed help, one of the last people she had saved was a woman who had gone into labor prematurely during a drone strike. The name, Stark, hung over their heads as the missiles flew. None of the emotions she had felt were new; if anything she should have been used to it by now. During every conflict she had witnessed she had helped people. This one though had been much more draining than the last; maybe it had been because she hadn't been able to rest.

The Russian Revolution, World War I, The Russian Civil War, World War II, Vietnam; and that wasn't even including the smaller wars that had only lasted a year or two in between. She couldn't help but remember all of the faces of the people she had saved. Little girls and boys who had been playing in the streets only to be greeted by open fire from both sides of conflict. It was easier before guns had been invented, people were still distinguishable so she could at least return them home to their families and the casualties weren't so steep. So much blood had been spilled in the past one hundred years alone she wondered why the soil hadn't turned crimson yet.

It seemed selfish now. She knew she needed rest; she was so worn down. She let her eyes shut.

The next day, she sat down at a small park. It was a cool summer morning. Fall was coming soon the wind had that crispness to it and a few of the leaves had begun to change color. It had only been in the city for a few hours, not even a full day, and she was already beginning to feel at peace. She placed her leg on the bench and extended her arms to the tip of her toes then repeated with the other leg before hopping off the bench and starting off her day with a light jog. Her hair was pulled into a tight ponytail so her long curly red hair couldn't get in her face; it still looked like a plume of copper around her as she moved. Gradually, she ran her laps going a little bit faster each time so she wouldn't draw attention. She noticed a man running along side her with short blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He had an incredibly masculine fit build and was a little more than half a foot taller than her.

"You're fast," he said, panting in between the words.

"You've got to be nowadays," she replied without any sign of fatigue. Smiling lightly at him she picked up her speed slightly. She knew she was pushing it soon she would draw attention.

"That's not fair," he panted as he dropped onto the side of the path. He stared at her briefly and remembered someone from his days with Bucky. His friend had met a girl in England who had been a medic. He had seen a blurry picture of the two in their barracks.

A women who had fair skin and freckles that dotted her face and chest. They could've been twins. The only difference was that the woman who was running back towards him had long hair that extended down to the middle of her back even with it pulled up and the girl from his memories had her hair in a short bob. She crouched down and gave him a water bottle than had been attached to her waist.

"Looks like you need this more than me," she said with a laugh. She dropped down next to him and laid down in the grass, faking most of her fatigue with long breathes.

"Where did you learn to run like that? It's very impressive," he asked taking a gulp of the water and handing it back to her.

"I've been running since I was young. I don't think it's very impressive, honestly." She shrugged, taking a sip. She took a better look at him and recognized him instantly; he was so young but that time had passed half a century ago. He should be an old man if not dead. He watched her as her hazel eyes widened and she shot up with ragged breaths. She acted as though she had seen the ghost of Christmas' Past

"Steven…." He jumped up at him name and looked around seeing if anyone was around them. He was grateful that the park was still empty.

"How do you know my name?"

"How are you alive?" She spoke now in such a low voice he had to focus to hear her. She reached out to him with wide eyes that showed hesitation and fear; as if he was going to disappear into a puff of smoke. "It's been over seventy years…"

Her hand laid on his chest and she could feel his heartbeat, he grabbed her hand and kept it there. Instinctively, she tried to jump back only for his other hand to reach around and hold her by the small of her back before she fell down.

"Steve, you shouldn't be here. How are you still alive?" She spoke between panicked breaths as she tried to move away from him.

"It's okay. I'll explain it to you but you need to calm down. I need your name."

"No- No! I'm leaving," she said putting her hand on his shoulder and trying to pull away. She looked like a trapped animal.

"I won't hurt you, I swear, Ma'am. Just please calm down," he didn't have time to react as both her feet landed on his chest and she flipped away from him, making him fall onto the concrete as he saw her run off into the distance.

He ran as fast as he could but he soon realized after a few blocks that she had completely disappeared from sight.

She sighed as he went away, watching him from behind a staircase. Slowly she made her way back to her apartment; letting old memories take her back. She could remember almost everything that had ever happened in her lifetime. All the names that echoed in mind.

One stayed in her mind while the others faded into the background of her memory.


	2. Pub Food

She could remember sitting at a small pub by the Thames, eating her food and drinking a small glass of wine. The day had been long and she was tired. She had spent the entire day healing the sick, her powers couldn't handle the amount of people she used them on. They seemed to get weaker every year, she thought with a sigh.

Before even the sun broke through the dawn she had been driving people out of the Warsaw ghettos and to safer borders then healing the sick on the frontlines. The traveling was exhausting as well the more she thought about it.

Looking around she felt so out of place; the world was changing at such a fast pace. She had chopped off most of her hair the night before to fit in with the rest of the women she saw. During the era before this one her long hair had fallen to the backs of her thighs and she had always kept it long, she felt so much lighter with this shoulder length cut but also out of place. She should've done the chop during the twenties so it wouldn't be so odd to her now. Her hair had always been long, falling at least to the middle of her back.

Feeling out of place was nothing new though it wasn't hard for her to feel out of place. If she blinked the world seemed to change instantly. Only a few moments ago she swore wearing a corset and a floor length gown was the everyday woman's clothes; it had been for a few hundred years. Then it was the short, fringed dresses and feathered headbands.

She pulled down her knee length skirt with her hands and wiggled around in her chair to make sure it wouldn't ride back up; the smoothed out her white blouse.

A group of American soldiers walked in; she thought they were already drunk by how they were acting. They waved their hands in the air screaming and hollering over the radio in the corner of the room.

"We bought our boys home!" One shouted while grabbing a pint from a local. She saw as they filed in; many of them looked like normal soldiers who hadn't seen the front lines yet. They had a happy naive look in their eyes. The ones behind them looked different though; their uniforms covered in dirt and their eyes tired and lacking any shine. They sat down and ordered their food.

All of the others were still cheering and making a scene while the other two sat down and talked. She could see a pain in both their eyes; more so in the brunette. His eyes were a gray blue reminiscent of a murky lake on a cloudy day. The other man had sandy blonde hair with much brighter pure blue eyes- no, there was a bit of green around the irises. She was nothing if not observant.

She turned to a server as they walked by.

"Whatever those boys want, it's on me," she told them, pointing to the men. War had taken it's toll on them, she could give them some comforts. The server nodded and she watched as he told them. The brunette waved her over and she raised her hands up with a weak smile, shaking her head side to side. A meek way of saying 'please no'. He got up with a laugh and sat down next to her instead, gesturing for his friend to come over. His clothes were baggy and tattered, his boots not even completely laced. She could see the silver of his dog tags peering out from under his olive green shirt.

"Steve, it would be rude not to sit with the lovely lady who just paid for our dinner!" She rubbed her temples with her hands and sighed. She didn't want the attention. He placed his hand on her shoulder and her face looked as though it had jumped up to look at him; her hand latching onto his wrist. "Long day, ma'am?"

Slowly, she brought both her hands down to her lap, her eyes went wide then relaxed. "Oh- oh, yes it has. I didn't mean to, Mr-"

"Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th." He paused, thinking before smiling. "Everyone calls me Bucky's though," he stated, rubbing his wrist with his other hand. "You've got quite the grip. Steve, watch out for this one." He turned to his friend with a chuckle.

"I will, Buck, but I'm gonna go outside for a bit," Steve told him as he walked out. A woman with brown hair and red lipstick was standing by the window outside. She could see them speaking to each other.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you, Sergeant Barnes," she said, slowly pushing her chair back. "You boys enjoy the food; it's on me. I should really get going-"

"How can you be in such a rush, ma'am? We haven't even gotten your name and you haven't even finished eating," he grabbed her hand as she was about to turn away. "Also I'd really appreciate the company too."

She looked at him again, he seemed so hurt; craving any kind of interaction. He had an sharp face and high cheekbones, a light stubble across his jaw with thin yet pouty lips above a cleft in his chin. His skin had a paleness to it, he looked malnourished as well from the gauntness of his face; there were even a few cuts on his face. She sat down next to him, picking up her glass, and taking a sip as the server put his food down in front of him. He was dirty too.

They must have just gotten back, her heart bleed for him. He was young, not even out of his mid twenties.

"I'm Evie." She said, "You should really get those marks checked out." He began to devour his food, it barely lasted through their conversation. "Don't eat too much you'll get sick." The Sergeant gave her a weird look which she noticed almost instantly. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, no, at all. Evie's a strange name though- cute but strange. Is it short for something?" He asked, gulping down his potatoes.

"Genevieve." She grabbed a napkin from the table. "I'm a nurse, would you mind if I," she pointed to his face, "fixed you up a little, Sergeant?"

He looked at her skeptically, assessing if she was a threat. Like the stubby man with the glasses. He nodded as he took scarfed down the rest of his potatoes. "You're French? You don't have an accent."

She soaked a napkin in a glass of cold water, brushing the marks on his face with it.

"Oh no. I'm from Sweden. I've just traveled a lot." She took another sip of wine, feeling slightly tipsy. What had this been glass six or seven? She couldn't remember. It's not like she could ever get drunk anyway. "You're American, right?" The cloth washed his forehead, bits of dry blood sticking to it.

It didn't bother her though, she was used to it.

He nodded," Brooklyn, ma'am, born and raised." He took a swig of some of his water to wash down his food. "This stuff is so awful."

"After centuries of everyone getting sick they started overcooking their food." He laughed and then tried to take another bite of his pork chop. She laughed as he fought with it, nearly losing the fork in his hands.

"Who the hell boils everything?" He spoke with a mouthful of food.

"The British." She said with a cheeky smile. "I think they always have."

"I could really go for an all American burger with fries." She shook her head in agreement.

"Wrong country. They're chips," she snorted, rubbing a patch of dirt below his ear. "I'll take anything over haggis though."

"You know, we could ditch this place and get some real food?" He said leaning towards her, his breath touching her skin.

"You've devoured everything on that plate. I'm halfway surprised you've left the bone." She pointed to the plate, that had been cleaned off so well that it probably didn't need to be washed. "If you eat anymore you're going to be sick."

He grabbed his stomach with one hand and braced himself with the other, holding the table. "You might have a point."

"You should probably get some rest, Sergeant Barnes. Looking worse for weather." He waved a hand to shrug her off.

"No more of this Sergeant stuff, no one really calls me that. Call me Bucky."

"Well then, Bucky, you might need to skedaddle onto your bed." She got up and grabbed her coat from behind the chair as she saw his friend come back inside. "I need to get going but, who knows, maybe I'll see you around."

"Come back here soon, Evie," he shouted to her as she walked outside to the chilly air.


	3. The Blitz

He sat there patiently at one of the tables. It had been almost a week and had gone on a mission with Capt-no, Steve, a few days ago. It was simple; shut down the base and save the P.O.W. that were held there. Despite that he found himself not enjoying himself once the missions were over. Free time had suddenly seemed like a bore, Steve was busy enjoying his well deserved fame and Bucky didn't want to be in the limelight for two long.

His body jumped right up when she walked in; her heels making noise against the wooden floor. A halo of untameable curly hair was the first thing he noticed under a brimmed hat then the large amount of freckles that danced across her nose and faded once they reached her cheeks and forehead. When she smiled at the hostess her hazel eyes were instantly brightened as she walked past him he realized that she had hazel eyes; more brown than green in this light, the green hung at her iris and pupil scaling over the brown like vines over the earth. He turned to her as they walked past, brushing his shoulder against her coat in an attempt to get her attention. She almost tripped at the unexpected contact, making the hostess snap her head back.

"Please don't mind me- just lost my footing is all," she stated holding onto the back of Bucky's chair.

"Are you okay, ma'am?" He asked as he turned to look at her again. "Oh, Evie, didn't expect to see you here." She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Would you like some company, Sergeant-" Her tone seemed slightly agitated and it had the slightest hint of sarcasm.

"Please call me Bucky." She turned to the hostess who had already left to greet other guests and sighed. "You never told me why you're here." She looked at him for a brief moment before sitting in the chair. "Why are you in Britain?"

"I wanted to see the world," she stated plainly, placing her napkin in her lap.

"This isn't a great time to be doing that," he said, shaking his head. "But I do think that a lady such as yourself deserves a night on the town."

"You're used to getting your way with people?" He turned to her as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Especially with women. Aren't I right?"

"You could say that," a triumphant smile across his face. She placed her elbows on the table leaning over to him with her face leaning on her hands.

"I'd rather not be one of the notches on your bedpost."

"Evie, I didn't mean anything like that." She waved a hand in front of him, signaling him to stop while he was ahead.

"Sergeant," he grimaced at her calling him that but she continued," I understand that being away from home and being away from the comforts you're used to is hard but please go somewhere else for them. I'm not interested." She stood up, putting the napkin on the table. "You might've thought that your little nudge was clever but I've been through this before."

"Well, maybe I should've just asked you but-"

"You thought I would find this cute or endearing? Like the rest of them did?"

"Look, I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you. Just one night then you can decide whether you want to still deal with me." He said but she ended up getting distracted by his voice, she hadn't noticed it before but she could hear a bit of an accent. There was something comforting there.

"I've seen you here before and considering you said you didn't like the food I have to wonder. Why?" He looked up at her and stood up, towering over by a few inches.

"I wanted to see you and I never got to properly thank you," he retorted, grabbing her hand. "I just want one night with you, Evie. Just one." She looked up at him and almost snorted, walking towards the doors; her hat now in her hand, gesturing towards the door with it and taking a small bow, she laughed.

She knew he'd never stop.

"Then lead the way, Sergeant." He couldn't help but smile as he took her arm and walked with her down the streets. Then his eyes turned towards the rubble, she noticed his gaze and rubbed her arm against his.

"The Blitz ended almost three years ago but they still haven't finished cleaning," she stated. "There isn't much to do here anymore; not too many people either. They're all in the countryside still. Maybe a few thousand people stayed but compared to what it was that's nothing."

"How many people were there before the war?"

"London's always been a big city; a few million people usually call it home."

"You talk about this city like you've been here a long time?"

"No, I'm just a frequent visitor. I was in France until the Germans invaded Paris." He didn't know what to say to that. Had she lost friends or family?

"That must've been hard to be around that."

"The world's been at war since I've been alive for a traveler it's nothing new."

"Were you born during the last war?" She placed her hand on his arm and squeezed.

"Please, let's not discuss this any further. It's beautiful tonight, the smogs cleared up a little and you can see some of the stars." He smiled when he saw her smiling.

"Do you know anything about constellations?"

"Can't say that I do but I'd like to learn," he told her, happy that she had changed the conversations. He didn't care too much about the stars when so much was happening now but if it had her happy he didn't mind.

They sat on a bench, looking up. She nudged him and pointed.

"There's Orion, the hunter, and," she moved her outstretched arm as if connecting the dots for him, "if you make a line from that star to that one it makes one of his legs." He shook his head.

"I don't see it," he said, adjusting his position to be closer to her. Their faces were inches from each other, she leaned the side of her face against his.

"Look, if you look at those two big stars as the tops of his shoulders," she pointed to two new stars," you'll be able to see him. Then you can connect it to that one and there's his arm."

"You've gotta show me where he is. I can't make it out," he said with a laugh. She giggled back to him and made her thumb and forefinger curve, aligning it with the stars.

"Do you see the bow?" She asked, watching him, and waiting for his reaction. His eyes lit up and she started laughing.

"I see him now but where's his head?"

"The Greeks didn't think that through but there's his arm," she told him reassuringly.

"You can't shoot an arrow without a head though! How can he aim without eyes?!" He waved his hands around in an angry gesture of disbelief.

"Bucky, you've got to use your imagination.I mean, it's just a myth," he gave her a large smile. "What's that for?"

"You said my name." He just got happier and happier. He was tired of hearing people call him Sergeant Barnes on the base and he didn't want her to be like them.

"Yes I know your name. You told me it."

"But Genevieve," he put his arm around her shoulder and held her to him, "you've never called me by anything other than Sergeant Barnes." He had a teasing tone in his voice which she immediately caught when he emphasized her name. She gave him a quizzical look and shrugged.

"Fine I'll play along then, Bucky," she said, leaning on his shoulder and wrapping her coat tighter around her body. He pulled off his navy blue coat and put it on her shoulder.

"No, you keep it. I'm fine," she tried, taking it off her shoulders but he placed his hand on her shoulder, keeping it there.

"You're cold," he said turning to her and trying to make sure it covered her. Once he got it over her whole upper body, she tried grabbing it by the lapels and giving it to him. He put his hands over hers. "I'm okay. I'm not cold, please, wear it."

She gave him a crabby look, her brows knitting together and her lips pouted. He rubbed her shoulder pulling her closer.

"Don't give me that face, Evie, you actually look very good in that color," he said. She relaxed in his arms. They just sat there quietly, he could smell something herby and medicinal on her. Mint, maybe? He wasn't sure, it had a floral scent to it. Steve's mother used to drink a tea that smelled similar. Elderberries; that was it.

The cold air was getting to him and he hopped off the bench. "It's getting late. I should walk you home."

She slowly got up with a yawn, stretching out her arms, and putting them into the coat sleeves. He pulled her over to him, holding her hand.

"I've been renting a room in a small hotel by Mint Street Park."

"By Great Suffolk Street?" She nodded, grabbing his arm closer to her.

He hadn't noticed how tired she was before in the pub. She walked with her head resting on his shoulder, large bags around her eyes. They both could hear something rumbling in the sky. She looked up, removing her hat, and squinting.

"Maybe it was some thunder," she said, still looking up as clouds began to move in.

"It sounded much worse than any thunder I've heard. Let's get you away from here." He held her arm in arm, picking up his pace with her in tow.

"You look much better than you did before," she told him once they were under a streetlight.

"Thank you," he said in questioned tone. He had just released from a Nazi Base when he came to that pub with Steve. The nurses had checked him over once they had gotten to the base in London telling him how he would be fine but he didn't feel it. Whatever they had done changed him but he couldn't even remember. All that could remember was being pricked by needles and being restrained.

"I didn't mean it to be offensive," the bags under his eyes were gone and his face looked a little more filled out. "I know what you're going throughout there is difficult."

He nodded in response to her words, looking down at the ground. His face shot up to look at the large mass above their heads that had casted an even larger shadow at their feet. She was already staring at it as it engulfed the moon's light, her grip on his hand tightening.

"We need to go underground," she almost shouted, darting off. He struggled to keep up with her as she kicked off her heels.

"Do you know where you're even going?" He screamed as he saw a bomb begin to plummet down and she hid them behind a deliberate wall, catching her breath.

"There's a subway station a few blocks over," she said, trying to be louder than the explosion that had gone off behind them, their hair flew in front of their faces and their hats went flying off their heads.

Bucky looked around the wall and to the sky as she peered out a broken window. The aircraft was still above them and she turned to him, swallowing her fear.

"I'm ready whenever you are," he said, holding her hand. She looked over her shoulder one more time to make sure the aircraft wasn't behind them, sadly it was, but staying here was just waiting for the end.

"We're gonna run towards the end of the street and split up."

"I'm not leaving you behind," he said, grabbing her arm. She pulled her arm away.

"I'll see you at the subway. They can't get both of us," she told him, "Take a left and keep running until you see the signs, then follow them. I'll go right and take a detour."

She turned to see a bomb dropping off the aircraft but Bucky had already started running with her arm in his hand. He was taller than her and easily jumped over the debris while her legs struggled to leap through the destroyed pavement and fallen walls.

Bucky released his hold over her as he crawled on top of a collapsed wall, his hands still outstretched to help her. Fire scorched everything around them as he found one clear path. She quickly grabbed it and slid off the other side of it, her skirt and panty hose slowly getting torn as she slid over small chunks of wood and nails. She gasped as a nail dug into her right leg and started bleeding heavily, once they were back on their feet she began limping. He grabbed her hand, dragging her behind him but the shock of the next explosion cause him to let go. He turned around realizing that she wasn't following him, only to see her on the ground, the sound of bullets echoed through the air as her breath hitched. She began crawling away, only using her left leg. She screamed as he turned around to her and tried to pick her up. The bullets kept firing from the aircraft as he pulled her to him.

"Keep going!" She knew she wasn't going to die from this but he could. She begged for him to keep going as he crouched down and threw her over his shoulder, her legs wrapped around his torso and her arms around his neck.

"James, I'll be fine! You need to put me down!"

"Sorry, doll, but I can't do that." He saw that blood was now pouring down her leg from two bullet holes. Relief washed over him as he saw two signs indicating where the subway was; he held her in his arms as they traveled. Her head bobbed against his shoulder as she tried to look up at the sky. He could feel how weak she was; her grip fading then growing tight around him. "Look, Evie, it's only a little further ahead. Just stay awake."

"But James-"

"Shhh, doll, we're almost there. You're gonna get help, I promise, you're gonna get help."

The world seemed to get quiet again as he ran with her in his embrace. He didn't care about the bombs or anything; just making sure she kept breathing was his only priority.

As they entered the station, her eyes shut and her head leaning on his shoulder. There was blood all over the both of them from her wounds. His head whipped around looking for anyone who could help them as he screamed while darting through the crowds of people.

"I need a doctor! She's injured!" The feeling of helplessness overcame him as he looked for a doctor. He found an empty bench and laid her down, watching blood drip to the floor as he tried to apply pressure to the wound.


	4. Weaving Wounds

He watched helplessly as she bleed. She looked up at him her eyes showing all of the pain she felt. He counted three bullet holes in her right leg and a nail severed a tendon in her left one; she would never be able to walk again. She grabbed his hand as he wandered in thought.

"Bucky, take me somewhere I can't be seen," she asked in a barely audible voice, trying to get up by stabilizing herself on her hands. He crouched down to her and she repeated herself. "I can't get up. Please."

"But what's that gonna do?" He asked her back, she gave him a small smile. She seemed confident that this would help her. Maybe she wanted to die away from prying eyes; he wasn't sure. The fact that she had woken back up was impressive enough.

"I'll show you." He sighed and picked her up off the bench. "Thank you."

"It's not a problem. Where to?" She pointed to a small bathroom on the other side of the station. "Really? The woman's room?"

"I can barely keep my eyes open," she said. He knew she had endured much more than any person could've and yet she was still alive. Three bullets to the leg should've killed her, hell, it should've killed anyone. He stared at her as she spoke in the quietest voice he had ever heard, "please."

He hauled her over to the room and locked the door behind them. She pointed to the counters and he placed her there. Slowly, she turned the water on then tore through her stockings, placing her bare legs in the sink.

"Can you grab some paper towels for me?" She asked as she wiped away the blood staining her. He nodded and brought them to her, seeing her fingers going closer to the wounds.

"What are-"

"If you're squeamish look away," she stated as she dug into her injury, blood falling into the sink. He was amazed to see a bullet in her hand when she pulled it out. Her head leaned against the wall as her hand began to glow a faint silver, her eyes were suddenly brighter and much more light reflected back at him as she turned to him. "You're the only person alive who's ever seen me do this," she told him, "don't tell anyone about it."

"What are you going to do?" He looked so confused and scared, backing away to the door.

"I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise, Bucky. You can watch me or look away, whatever makes you more comfortable," she told him. He could see sweat begin to form on her skin as she sucked in her breath. Slowly, he got closer and watched as the wound shut, the skin seemed to have weaved itself as she focused on it. He had seen bloodier scenes but he still couldn't help but cringe as she went to the second bullet. She shut her eyes and her breath hitched as it weaved over.

"How'd you learn that?" He asked as she took a second to catch her breath, leaning against the wall.

"I don't think it was learned. I think I was born with the knowledge to do it," she said, wiping the sweat off her forehead. "In the small village I grew up in there was a war and I helped the wounded. That's where I realized that I could do. It just happened."

Her eyes returned to their normal hue before intensifying again. He grabbed her knee when he realized it was shaking. When their eyes meet he saw they were completely silver, she smiled and raised her hand to his cheek and it glowed again. He gave a quick gasp and then relaxed when he could see she was healing his cuts. It was a strange feeling, like getting stitches but it was his own skin was getting pulled instead of thread. The pain was like a punch to the stomach, leaving him breathless but it numbed as she kept her hands there. He wanted to move them and tell her to finish removing the last bullet. There was still that nail too.

"You should focus on yourself," he told her, clasping his hands over hers.

"I don't want to risk you getting an infection," she finished quickly and continued attending to her own injuries. He steadied her leg as she pulled the last bullet out, she looked exhausted by the time she had healed it. Bucky wiped the hair that was sticking to her forehead away and placed a damp paper towel there. Her cheeks were bright red as she ran the towel over her face before tossing it in the sink with the bullets. His fingers wrapped around the nail and she braced herself by putting one hand on his shoulder. Her eyes shut and her head tipped down for a second before snapping up.

"You're tired. I'll get this one for you," he stated as she nodded, the hand on his shoulder felt like it was about to break the bone underneath it. Quickly he tore it out and watched again as she healed herself. He found it hypnotizing how all the layers of muscle and skin weaved together until the wounds looked like they had never existed. She did it through half lidded eyes, her breath ragged as she tried to get off the counter. Bucky grabbed her by the arm in an attempt to help her steady herself.

"They're healed enough to where I'll be able to move and infection isn't a risk," she told him as she limped next to him. "There's too much internal damage from the bullets and too many bullets to begin with for me to completely heal myself. I've used my powers too much." He began walking towards the door.

"Is that all you can do," he asked as she attempted to match his strides. She chuckled at him, earning a confused look.

"Pray you never have to see the rest of what I can do," she stated looking at him in complete seriousness. There was a battle waging in her eyes, he could see it clearly as all the light vanished from them. After everything she had shown him she had to question whether he was trustworthy or not. He laughed as he opened the door.

"You can trust me," he stared down at her as she nodded in response.

"I hope so, James, for your sake."


	5. Refuge

Bucky stared at the ceiling as he thought of the night he had just been through. The bombs, the strange healing, the thinly veiled threats. He wondered if he should tell Steve but instantly he brushed that thought away. Evie had helped him and the threats were to protect herself; he knew that but what else was she hiding from him? From the rest of the world?

He had walked her to the small building she had been staying at. She couldn't walk and he wasn't going to let her limp home. Once they arrived she had insisted that he go home and she could handle the walk to her room but he couldn't help but peer in to see the children there, many of them looked like walking skeletons. A few women were there too in similar condition, speaking in a language he couldn't understand. The questions just kept piling up in his mind. Slowly the quieted as he fell asleep, remembering her ultimatum as she unhooked her arm from his and walked through the door.

"Whether you stay or go doesn't matter to me but if my secret comes out I will kill you without hesitation," her words carried an iciness that almost made him shiver. The look in her eyes like a wild animal ready to pounce on its prey, not batting an eye at the damage it was about to inflict.

Genevieve stared at the children as she limped through the building, speaking to each one as she walked by. A few men sat in the corner, speaking quietly amongst themselves.

"Lady Genevieve," one of the woman began, coming up to her as Evie raised her hand to silence her. Her head down as memories came to her by just hearing that name.

"Please don't call me that."

"I'm sorry, Miss, but Mr. Hoffman called," she immediately looked up.

"What did he say?"

"They've cleared out the ghettos," her voice began to crack as Evie gestured her into a room, seeing how all the children had begun paying attention. Some of the men followed them into the room.

She turned as a small hand grabbed her skirt and tugged as she tried to close the door. A small girl with auburn ringlets and deep brown eyes stared at her, hands outstretched. She picked her up leaning against the door frame for support and wincing slightly.

"You go on in I'll join you all in a moment," she told the adults, closing the door.

"When's momma coming?" The child asked quietly. Evie smiled and pulled her into a hug.

"Aliza, it's nighttime. You need to sleep," she ran her fingers in the girl's hair, speaking to her in a whisper. "We're doing everything we can so you can be with her again."

"I'm hungry," Aliza said pointing to her stomach. She smiled and placed her back down and turned to one of the older boys. A few older woman were hushing the children and trying to coax them to sleep.

"Could you please make her something, Abraham? I'll be back soon then we all need to go to sleep," the girl began to look sad; a small whimper beginning in the back of her throat,"shh, little Aliza. I won't be long." She said as she went into the room and locked the door. One of the men had pulled up a chair for her as she hobbed to them and another was comforting the woman who was now sobbing into a tissue. Evie turned to one of the men.

"Where have they been taken?"

"Labor camps located all over Germany and their 'living space'." He stated almost hissing out the last two words.

"The labor camps are nothing new. A few women have been going in and taking helping the people escape," Genevieve said, grabbing a file that had been on the dresser behind her. "Almost two-hundred people so far, mostly small children have been rescued." Another one turned and spoke up.

"Hoffman says that the chimney's have been puffing smoke non stop with an ungodly stench since the Allies began drawing closer. Large pits have been dug as well." The woman began sobbing louder and the men put their heads down.

"They know they can't keep up much longer," she said, running her hands through her head hair almost tangling them in it. "Everything's ticking now for the imprisoned and the Nazi Regime."

"Hydra is still backing them up, if possible we should-" She knew where he was going.

"No, I'm not cutting off that head. We know what game they're playing, Leigh. The moment I cut it down a new one will fester and we have a whole new can of worms to deal with. Anyway, Hitler is financing them so getting rid of his empire is the simple way to take them out of Germany."

He nodded in acknowledgement, looking at her with solemn eyes. They all knew that Hydra had heads in every government.

"So what you're saying is there's no hope?" The woman said, catching her breath.

"No," she began looking through the files," the smallest camp is located in Austria." She paused," what was Austria. That's where I'll go with a small group of Hoffman's men."

"I don't trust that German." She turned to him with a fury beginning to build in her eyes.

"Racist thoughts are what caused this war. We will not fall to that way of thinking. Not when Hoffman is the only reason you all are safe and not sharing the same fate as many of your neighbors." She sighed and then got up. "You all need to rest. I'm going to make sure the children are okay then I'm retiring for the evening."

She waited for a brief moment," thank all of you for being my eyes and ears when I'm not here." The woman made eye contact with her," See if Franz can draw a sketch of your husband and I'll do my best to find him."

She left the room and walked through the halls, checking on everyone behind each door before walking down to the basement. The weight she carried from all of these peoples was beginning to burden her mind, remembering all of the loved ones she had to save or at the very least find out what had become of them. She had seen so many wars but nothing compared to what was happening now. Cots lined the floor with sleeping bags filling in the spaces. She had forgotten how many people were down here but she shook her head as she saw Aliza reaching for her. Before she hadn't realized that Aliza was still wearing the tattered dress she had on when she had taken her from Hoffman's men.

They were brave, concealing themselves as they had traveled through the ghettos and some of the camps as plumbers and other handymen. Hoffman and his soldiers had saved more people than any other group during the war. Men and woman both had helped the rescue had said two hundred before but she knew it had begun to rank in the thousands. The sight of infants and toddlers hiding under compartments in toolboxes and children in burlap sacks was a normal occurrence for her now. It had become nearly impossible to hide men and women; some had begun creating fake walls in their trucks and hiding the people behind them. None of that would work anymore everything was going to be harder from now on.

She rummaged through some sacks in the corner and pulled out a clean nightgown for the girl, who quickly changed remarking about how she loved the flowers that had been embroidered on.

The little girl looked at her leg in confusion seeing all of the holes in her panthose as she appeared from behind the screens that sat next to the bags.

"DId you fall?" Genevieve laughed after a brief second of silence. She looked through the sack again grabbing a nightgown for herself and changing into it.

"You could say that. Now run along to your bed." Aliza looked at her and then the bed, trying to decide between something. She scooped up the girl in her arms and walked back up the stairs, the pain in her leg trying to become more pronounced as she ignored it. Weapons were getting to the point that they actually injured her, it wouldn't be long before they would be able to kill her.

Quietly, she wandered the halls until she was in her own room and laid the girl beside her. This was the girl's first night she wasn't going to be comfortable sleeping alone.

"You look like momma," the girl said as Genevieve tried to close her eyes.

"That should make her easy to find then. Now go to sleep," she pulled the girl in closer, immediately she felt a little hand in her curls. She waited for Aliza to go to sleep before one though darted in her mind as she succumbed to it was well.

She thought of Bucky.


	6. Second Star to the Right

I'd like to give thanks to everyone who has read my story and a special thanks to my reviewers; Calliope's Scribe, Kaanae,TheLightBehindHerEyes, and peoplers. I hope the coding issue is fixed with this!

* * *

Genevieve woke up earlier than anyone else in the home, a wide array of dried herbs in front of her and some more modern medicine as she sat at a desk on the far side of the home. She had a list with her as she placed the herbs and pills in a pile, crossing off each name on the list as she put each pile in a small bag. She contemplated on what to give the children who naturally had more sensitivities but with what they had gone through she didn't want to risk the medicine being too strong.

Her nose upturned as she smelled something foul, figuring out it was her within a few seconds. She hadn't bathed last night and she was regretting that now. Quietly, she walked to one of the bath rooms with some spare clothes. The tenderness in her legs was almost gone now by nightfall she would be completely healed. She felt instant relief as the warm water hit her skin.

As she finished up she heard a knock at the door. She had heard the household beginning to wake up earlier, footsteps trailing off here and there.

"Miss, there's a man outside who wants to see you!"

"Did he give a name?"

"No, Miss." Genevieve sighed as she dried herself off and threw on a blouse and a loose pencil skirt. Quickly, she walked down the hall with her heels in her left hand. She looked in the mirror by the door, seeing her damp hair dripping onto her blouse she grabbed the nearest coat on the rack and put her heels on. There was no way she was expecting what was on the other side of that door.

Bucky stood there waiting in the freezing rain, his shoulders already soaked.

"I'm guessing my threats didn't scare you?" She said grabbing an umbrella and opening it so they would be covered. He just stared at her with a crooked smile.

"No, ma'am." She stared at him with disbelief, shaking her head, her mouth agape. It took her a few minutes to even say anything.

"Are you stupid?"

"Well," he scratched the back of his head, chuckling," I don't think so, Evie."

"This isn't a game," her eyes started to glow and she dropped the umbrella. She walked to him, a silver aura around her almost lifting her as she grabbed him by the collar of his coat. He could feel his feet lifting off the ground. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Look, I'm not trying to start anything that would cause you trouble. I just wanted to see you. No one knows about any of this." He watched as her eyes faded back to hazel and felt his feet plant back onto the ground.

"Then why are you here?" He sighed and grabbed the umbrella, putting it back over them.

"I was hoping that maybe you would like to go out again," he said, watching her face change into an unreadable expression.

"Why?"

"I don't know," he looked at his hands for a brief moment then back at her. Since Steve had become Captain America he didn't know his place anymore. He was no longer the sought after friend, women didn't notice him but she did. He no longer got dates now but the woman in front of him felt worth it, he wanted her. She wasn't like all of those women from Brooklyn. "When I'm with you I feel alive-"

"You could've died last night. Got your blood going?"

"That's not why! Evie," he walked close to her, cupping her face in his hands as the umbrella was completely forgotten about as it flew in the wind," let me get to know you before you turn me away."

Her hands were on his chest, she could feel how fast his heart was going. She knew how this would end, just like all of the others had. Did she really want to watch another loved one fade against time? She didn't even think she wanted to attempt it with everything happening.

"Bucky, now isn't the time for this."

"No, now's the perfect time cause I never know what day's gonna be my last, doll." He could see the wheels turning behind her eyes, he stopped them by closing the distance between them and kissing her. Her eyes stared wide in shock before closing them and her arms wrapped around him, pulling him close.

She felt something for him and she knew it. It wasn't love, something similar though, just starting to grow. She had felt warm in his embrace when he had carried her through the subway and she admired his bravery, he could've ran but he still came back for her.

They continued kissing, their lips moving against each others' as the rain poured down over them. He could feel the strength she possessed as she held him to her, keeping him there even as they stopped kissing with his head resting on hers. He placed a hand on her head, trying to run his fingers through the damp curly locks, only for him to hear a gasp from her.

"Oww, that hurts, Bucky," he laughed at that.

"You've been through worse." He teased as kissed her forehead, she looked up at him. She had never seemed more gorgeous to him, her freckles almost covered the center of her face and the strange youth they added to her to her appearance but that was discarded when he saw the age in her eyes. There were no marks but just they way she watched people and the way they showed her emotions. They were bright and warm with the brown showing through the green rings and her rosy lips were swollen from their kissing.

"Let's go somewhere," she said," anywhere but here" He grabbed her hand.

"Anywhere it is, Evie." He could hear giggling as he tried to speak in an announcer's voice.

"Have you ever read any of J.M. Barre's books or plays?" She asked with a smile ear to ear.

"I must've hit the jackpot. I've got a woman who knows stars and books," he wolf whistled at her and shook his head.

"That's a shame, you don't know about Neverland."

"I'm sure we could get there can you lead the way?" He turned around when she stopped and saw that she put her hand over her mouth to try and stifle her laughter.

"I can't fly and anyway we'd have to leave at night."

"Why's that?"

"According to Peter Pan we have to take the second star to the right and go straight on till morning." She had always imagined that many of the boys who were recruited for wars had wished they could've been like Peter longer.

"What's so special about it?"

"There's mermaids-"

"Mermaids." He repeated in disbelief.

"And fairies-' She continued with a blush growing on her cheeks, staring at him.

"Fairies?" He repeated her words again.

"It's fun to hide in fantasy sometimes. It's why I like reading so much."

"I'm sorry, doll, but with you here and your magic those might actually exist." She shook her head.

"No, they only exist in fairytales. I would've found them by now."

"Maybe when the war ends we can look for some in Ireland," he said as they sat on a bench overlooking the river, the rain beginning to end with only small droplets falling down on them.


	7. K-I-S-S-I-N-G

Night had fallen after hours of bitter daylight, the brutal winds only getting worse. She stared around at her team, a group of men with black masks. The mask on her face looked like an old doctor's, it had a metal beak and black spectacles screwed on it to disguise her eyes. No light shone through them. She wore an old black military coat that she had dyed from it's former gray tone years ago and had worn during her time in Russia, the tassels beginning to break apart on the cuffs and a hood sewn into the collar to cover her vibrant hair.

"I'll go in first," she said, the mask distorting her voice into a darker almost masculine tone. "You all can follow in a half hour. I want to minimize the casualties as much as possible."

They nodded, none of them speaking. She felt her stomach twist in discomfort, the way these men acted, she didn't understand why it was so bizarre. Her guard was on full alert, every noise she heard, every breath the men made she paid attention to. She could hear their joints cracking as the stretched their arms and watched the movements their faces made under the masks they wore which stretched over their features like rubber with mash over their eyes.

She had been told they were Hoffman's men but she could recognize any of their voices when they had spoken to her during the briefing. Were they not talking now because they had sensed her concern? How much had Hoffman told them about her?

Quietly, she got up and opened a sewage grate, climbing into it. She walked through the murky water until she found a ladder, the only creatures guarding the entrance were rats and spiders as the scurried away at the sound of her feet. It didn't take her long to figure out that the ladder lead into a storage room. She didn't understand the things in the room. A pound of hair laid on one of the shelves next to some potatoes that were beginning to grow roots. Her brows knitted in confusion under the mask as she left the room. A huge part of her didn't want to understand where that hair was from.

Hoffman had never explained what was going on in the camps besides the amount of death. She could smell it from miles away, she hated to admit to herself how well she knew that smell.

The sound of footsteps became more apparent as she walked through the facility. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as a man came up behind her but she quickly ducked and flung him into a nearby wall. It didn't take her very long to incapacitate every solider in the building.

She watched as the soldiers she had brought with her drove off with cargoes full of victims and prisoners of war. One of the men had said that the prisoners of war would be taken to an Allied Base in Italy and the victims would be taken to neighboring countries and safe houses. Relief came to her in waves as they continued through the country, going after one camp at a time. She could see the hope in the people's eyes and she felt better than she had in awhile. The amount of the regime's labour force drastically fell overnight. As she flew back to England, she saw little fires throughout the countryside, each camp would be a pile of ashes by morning.

Back at the home, she went through old files she had taken from the facilities before getting ready for bed. It was already five in the morning, she could barely focus on the words in front of her anymore when she had received a telegram from Hoffman. It was jumbled which was to be expected, she tried to decipher it. He had used songs from the past few years to spell something out. She counted out the amount of letters before realizing that many of the words had an odd amount of letters in them. Turning to her side, she grabbed a pen and paper and started jotting down possible messages. Her brows furrowed as she twisted her fingers in her hair. This couldn't be happening already.

Hydra left Reich Nov

This was never about getting back at Hydra but she couldn't deny feeling some pride in knowing she had done damage to their operation. Only to know now that they had abandoned the Third Reich months ago. It was January now.

Sleep hadn't come easy but eventually she allowed her mind to become silent. Once she woke up around noon she took a fast shower and checked on everyone in the house. She spoke with one of the older women briefly who carried a bag of laundry

"Will you be seeing the American again?" She had asked her, a twinkle in her eyes. Genevieve smiled.

"Why do you ask?" She woman playfully slapped her shoulder.

"What do you mean?" The woman become much more animated as she waved her hands in the air. "You're so young! Have a night one the town- go dancing! You can't just stay cooped up in this house until the war ends."

"Maybe once I've stitched up my skirts," Evie said with a sigh, trying to walk away until the woman grabbed her arm and pushed a pile of clothing into her arms.

"Consider it done, Miss." She raised an eyebrow as Genevieve racked her brain for another excuse.

"But what about the children? I can't just leave. Things need to get done-"

"Schwartz has three pots of soup on the stove and loaves in the oven that should be plenty for dinner tonight. Mr. Avidan has the children entertained with books tonight. That Peter Pan book again before bed." The woman lead her into the hallway as they spoke, eventually other people from the household began to appear around her, mostly the other women.

"No, I can't just leave," she realized after sometime of going back and forth that the woman had been dropping things into her hands, on top of the pile of clothes. Tubes of lipstick and jewelry, eventually she saw a pair of heels beginning to block her view. One of the children has flung pieces of paper into the air shaped like hearts, many of them sticking into her hair. She turned to the other woman as she stood in front of a doorway. "What do you think you all are doing?"

One of the woman smiled behind her as she shoved her into the room, locking it from the outside. "Giving you a push!" She could hear them laughing as people began to disperse. "That man will be here in an hour so I'd hurry up and get ready if I were you. You've got plenty of stuff to sort through!"

Some of the children were still laughing as they sang to each other. Little Aliza even joining in.

"Evie and James," they started, loudly trying to get everyone to sing at the same time."Sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G."

"There will be none of that," she shouted through the door, only to hear their laughter get as loud as their singing.

"First comes love, then comes marriage," she rolled her eyes. She grabbed a few of the tubes of lipstick and went to the mirror, placing them next to her hair to see if one of them would go with her complexion.

"Then comes a baby, in a baby carriage!" The lipstick fell out of her hands as it hit the floor with a thud.


	8. Pick a Date

Snow had began to fall as she waited outside for him, she instantly regretted trying to do her hair as the snow fell on it. The curls were already becoming damp and losing their shape, many returning to the lion's mane she normally had. She shook her head like a wet dog, running her fingers through her hair so it became loose and bouncy. It was strange being so dolled up. She wore a dress under her coat that had a curved v-neckline and was cinched at the waist by a few buttons in a deep navy color. It had almost no give to it as it hugged her figure with a slight flow at her knees allowing her to walk at a decent pace, run if she had to. She didn't want to rip another piece of clothing.

She watched as Bucky turned onto the street, wearing a black plain jacket and hat. He had recently shaved and trimmed his hair, overall just looking clean. A smile stood out against the rosiness of his cheeks, the cold wind blowing against them. He held his hat down with one hand as he greeted her. She questioned him on where they were going as he took her arm in his. He just smiled, giving no reply. They walked for sometime just talking about anything, James noticed how she skated away from personal questions. She could change the topic of conversation within a split second.

"Evie," he started, "we've known each other for a few months now and I was wondering if I could ask you something." He could sense the tension spilling from every pore on her face as she listened to him. "Where are you really from?"

"Sweden," she said clearly. They had already discussed this the first time they had met. He shook his head.

"No, I've never met any girl who does what you do." She pursed her lips together in thought.

"Well, my earliest memories are from living in Sweden. I lived in an orphanage until a nobleman came, he was looking for people to work in the village he looked over." She said simply. "You should talk about yourself, Bucky. I can't stand talking about myself all the time when we're together."

He nodded, playing along but apart of him did knowledge that he did ask her too much about herself. It was fair to share a bit about himself too. "I grew up in Brooklyn with my family."

"Siblings?"

"Sister, her name's Rebecca. You?"

"None that I know of." He turned to her, feeling pity for a moment as she looked at her shoes. She must have been lonely, she didn't trust too many people and with her powers must have came with a burden. There was no one to share that with. He placed his hand on her shoulder until she continued the conversation, walking along the now cleaned streets. "Tell me about her."

"There's not much to say. She's a spitfire, always ready to take something on," she could hear the pride in his voice. "Girl can pack a punch."

"Considering she has you as a brother. I'm not surprised." They laughed briefly as she continued to tease him. "She probably saw you rough up a few fellas."

"I've always helped Rogers until recently so you might be onto something. He was always weak and he had asthma so he was never ready for a fight," he took in a gulp of air. "He always got his ass kicked, never knew when to shove it."

She was silent, waiting for him to continue. He had a lot on his mind that he needed to unload but he instead wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to him again. They could hear music as they walked, nearing a club.

"When was the last time you went dancing, Evie?" He asked as he began trying to pull her into the building. She tried to remember, maybe the 1920's if not maybe sometime during the 1850's? It wasn't very restrictive so it must have been recent.

"I can't remember." He took a few steps back, letting his grip on her shoulder go.

"Show me what you've got doll."

"You better not laugh at me," she said with a sigh as she stood under the lamppost in the dark. He watched as she swayed both her arms and began to move her feet backwards before going forwards. She started turning in a circle, kicking her heel up and touching it with her palm.

Bucky placed his hand over his mouth, laughing quietly. She danced like his mother and him had when he was a child and she seemed to be enjoying every minute of it. A smile across her face as she seemed to be in a different world, her short hair bobbing up and down as she moved. He could imagine her in a flowy sequined dress and a feathered headband dancing like that two decades ago. She did it so well. It took her a moment to notice his face as it contorted in laughter then realization hit him like a gunshot.

"What's wrong, Bucky?" He became silent as she walked over to him. "James?" His eyes were wide as she put her hands on his shoulders.

"Genevieve, be honest with me." He looked up into her eyes that were filling with uncertainty as his hands gripped the top of her arms, shaking her slightly as he tightened his grip.

"James, that hurts," she winced as she tried to pull away.

"How old are you?" His blue eyes stared her down with grey flecks catching the light, hers turning an amber tone, the green fading into the background. Once when they first started talking she had said she was twenty-six but the more he thought about her; the short hair, the dancing, and even how she talked sometimes. It was like she was from a different time. He couldn't help but question it. She looked around noticing that people were starting to come out of the club, watching them.

"James, I can't tell you here. Please," she was pleading with him now, her hand on his chest. "Let's go somewhere else." He shook her again, her hair flying into her face and sticking to her lipstick. He was angry and he had every right to be, she would've been too. She let her hands rest at her sides. "I don't want to hurt you, James."

He let her go, seeing her eyes changing into silver under the veil of hair that now covered her face. They returned to their hazel tone as she moved her hair out of her face. She began walking away from him, towards an abandoned building. He followed behind her as she jumped through a broken window and seemed to wander into the main room of the building. It was completely secluded with no windows so no one could see them speak. There was a couch on the far wall, she sat on it, motioning for Bucky to sit next to her.

"I haven't told you everything," she told him," and it's only fair that you know what you're getting into. I never thought that we would end up like this so I kept it a secret." She sighed, running a hand through her curls. "I figured you'd leave eventually. Get scared or find someone else." Nervousness crawled over her as she ran her hands over her face. He had calmed down somewhat, seeing her slouching over herself on the couch, her arms around herself. She whispered something as a tear ran down her face. This would be the end now.

"I'm over two-hundred years old," she said quietly, looking up at him. He blinked, barely registering that number.

"Don't look a day over twenty-six, honestly," he told her trying to ease the tension. She looked at him and then to her hands. He grabbed one of them, squeezing it, keeping her in the moment with him.

"I don't age, James. I don't even know if I'll die or if I'm even human. Your life is definite and you should be with someone who can share it with you." She tried getting up but he still held her hand. He could see pain and fear in her eyes.

"No," he said to her as she grabbed her other hand, "you don't get to lie to me and then walk out!" He pulled her down and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her onto his lap. "You told me before that this is my choice." He wiped her tears away with his sleeve.

"Bucky, I can't judge you if-" He pulled her down into a kiss, stopping her words. She relaxed, her body molding to his as her back ended up on the couch as he kissed her, his body on top of hers as they continued. He bit her bottom lip as she wrapped her arms around his neck. They laid on the couch sharing soft kisses as the nighttime chilled them. After sometime they became quiet, just holding each other.

"I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of James. You'd be safer without me. Its why I've tried to keep you at a distance." He kissed her forehead.

"I know but I don't need you worrying about me. I can take care of myself, doll. I've made it through the war so far." He wasn't going to mention anything about the squat man from the HYDRA facility, the needles piercing his skill, gloved hands touching his skin. The changes he felt as more time was put between him and that day. No, he wouldn't tell her.

" A lot of people have made it through this war in piss poor condition. That isn't making me feel any better." He smiled and squeezed her against him.

"To hell with me. Worry about yourself." She laughed, she worried about everyone so that wasn't going to happen. Too much to atone for, lifetimes of regret and she knew the damage she had done.

"I'll try, Bucky." He sat up, picking her up in the process, swinging her from side to side. He laughed to himself as he thought about her age again, she looked at him confused which she was guessing this was going to be the norm with him. Her eyes glowed and she was older than some countries so she didn't mind, she couldn't really judge.

"What's the oldest person on Earth birthday?" She looked quizzically at him.

"I couldn't tell you. Orphan, remember? Orphan in the **1700's**." She stressed that point but then scratched her head. "It's sometime in spring...I think. Maybe May."

"That's good cause we're gonna celebrate it but first we need a day."

"You're joking, right?"

"Not in the slightest, doll." He gave her a crooked smile as he placed her feet on the ground.

"You're too kind, James." He didn't know what to make of that statement as they walked hand in hand through the freezing city.


	9. Hail HYDRA

It was another night of breaking into Nazi facilities, nothing had done wrong so far. She had noticed how Hoffman had raised the number of men on her squad despite the fact that there was no reason to. Maybe he was becoming paranoid in his old age. They had never met face to face, she had always kept her identity a secret from him, disguises being the only safe way to meet. He had never worn any and there was never an exact time for their meetings, she would always catch him off guard. There was trust between them, enough for this to work at least. She had snuck into a military base which, to her surprise, was still full of free thought against the regime and overheard him and his fellow officers. They discussed the camps, the atrocities in them, and their dislike of HYDRA. Many had also questioned Hitler's military ambition, it didn't take her very long of appearing in Hoffman's bunk and scaring him half to death to be able to come to an agreement. That had been during the early days of Hitler's power, 1934. He had supplied the trucks and the other people during their time evacuating the ghettos.

After almost a decade of working together she didn't see why he would betray her now.

The next one they were going to was significantly larger than the previous ones, the soldiers would cover her back while she carried them through. She sat in the back of a truck with them, going over a map. The mask hung heavy on her face as she tried to adjust it with her gloved hands. She could feel the weight of her equipment; the knives at her thigh and the guns strapped to her chest and the one at her back, the sword at her hip.

"We're ready for you," one of the men said in a thick German accent. The mesh of their masks made them like sickly demonic creatures as they spoke.

"Have you radioed Hoffman our location?"

"Of course, Doctor." He couldn't see the look she was giving him through the thick black glass that covered her eyes. She hadn't heard any radio's turned on or off, no static, nothing.

Slowly, she walked off the truck and to the gate of the camp. There would be no stealth this time, this faculty was too heavily guarded and her men wouldn't be able to easily traverse through the underground sewage system to begin with. They could hear a soft hymn in front of them as she raised a gloved hand, a silvery thread stretching and weaving into a wall.

It didn't take them long to get into the heart of the operation as she kept the men guarded while they fired off rounds. Minimizing casualties wasn't an option today. The bodies kept falling one after the other through the hail of bullets. Most of the gunfire was pointed at her because of how noticeable her costume was in comparison to the black faceless men around her. That was good, that had been the point behind the cumbersome mask. They had painted the walls crimson by the time they reached a large chamber.

She could see a banner with the swastika as she walked to the center of the room, her hand still raised. The soft hymn of the barrier echoing off the walls. Her head snapped as she heard clicking behind her and the sound of the doors closing behind her.

All of the men, her and Hoffman's, stood with their guns raised. Their expressionless faces, what was running through their heads. They knew what she was capable of and if the situation arose she would have no issue doing it. The barrier fell around her.

"Hail Hydra!" A voice said behind her in a thick accent. She couldn't see anyone soon realizing it was being said through the buildings intercoms. A laugh escaped her as she shook her head.

"So this is what has become of the great HYDRA? A bunch of small men hiding behind speakers?" She turned back to her soldiers. "How pathetic the lot of you are."

"Do not blame the men, Doctor. They have much more on the line here than you believe." There was a slight pause before he continued. " I believe you've met, Herr Hoffman. He did try to keep you a secret from us but the man seemingly didn't have the strength by the end of our time with him."

"Where's Hoffman?" He ignored her question.

"Ahh, Lady Genevieve, we have waited for your return to us. Do you still remember that name? It's been almost a century since you've been with us." Her skin began to crawl as the air felt thicker around her. "Sadly, we are running out of time. HYDRA has missed its fist and it's time for us all to reunite for our long awaited reunion."

She turned to the soldiers and slipped her fingers behind her mask. None of it mattered now that they knew. It fell to the floor along with her coat.

The men immediately began to fire as her eyes started to glow. She created a bubble around her and made it grow larger, it moved so fast that it knocked the men off their feet like a wave. The room felt like it was getting warmer, she tried rubbing her hands together and she shocked herself. She broke off into a sprint to the door.

"I can't wait for us to spend time together."

The whole room shook as electricity went through it. She braced herself on the door as she grabbed the handle and tried to break it open. Her lip began to bleed from the pressure her teeth were putting on it as she tried not to scream. Everything in her body was wanting to give up. She could feel the electricity was getting stronger as she broke open the door and reached for her guns. Her face scrunched in pain as she fell onto one knee, seeing the small militia waiting for her to take one step out of the room.

She shot one of them and tried to run past the other men, her barrier beginning to form. Her feet barely left the room before she began to be riddled with bullets. Blood pooled onto the floor as she slumped down into it, her chest heaving as her eyes glowed trying to heal the fresh wounds. Slowly, her vision went black as she felt her body being pulled up.


	10. Sound of Silence

TheLightBehindHerEyes- Sadly, its only gonna go downhill from here. I feel a mean streak coming on.

* * *

Bucky stood in front of the house, hearing the bustle behind the door. She hadn't spoke to him for two weeks. Two whole weeks.

He didn't know what to think. Had she tired of him? What the hell was she doing? His hand balled into a fist as he held it to the door.

No note. Nothing for him. Why was he wasting his time with this monstrosity of a woman? The mystery of who she was- what she was, intrigued him. She could've been one of the most dangerous forces on the planet and he didn't care. He could remember the sparks she left him with when they kissed, her soft hands on his neck as she held onto him and her eyes looking at him through her eyelashes. The look of bliss on her face when they embraced.

This was the right decision for him. No other woman had driven him mad like this. He took in a deep breath and jumped back as the door opened for him, an older petite woman opened the door.

"Come in, Sergeant, please. Quickly now!" She said in a thick german accent as she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the house, not giving him much of an option.

"Ma'am is there something the matter?" His eyebrows knitted together as they walked through the halls. He saw one room after the other, beds and cots covering the floors. She dragged him through the house. "Where's Gen-"

"Shh! Don't say her name! The kids will come running and there will be no stopping that stampede!"

"Kids?" He asked, "she has kids?" The woman tried to hold back her laughter.

"I hope all of these aren't hers. There's almost fifty children here, sir!"

"Holy-"

"Yeah and they're all terribly upset that she's gone so please not another-" He watched as a child ran up to them, he recognized him. The boy was always watching through one of the windows.

"Oh, you always hang out with Genevieve!" The woman's eyes grew wide as all of the children nearby peaked into the halls. Another one soon followed despite the woman swatting them away.

"Do you know where she is? She was supposed to watch our play."

"We've been reading Peter Pan!"

"You're getting really sweet on my woman," one boy said with a pout with him arms crossed.

"What?" Bucky said to the boy as the older woman pushed him into a room.

"Daniel, go do something with yourself! The rest of ya better be helping with supper and laundry. Its not gonna get done all by itself!" She leaned against the door as she took in a breath. "I'm so sorry, sir. The kids just love her and since she disappeared we've all been very upset."

He took in his surroundings, the room was full of books and various herbs hung from the wall. A few maps adorned the walls with red marks through them. He saw one spots had the insignia he had seen when he had been captured in the Alps and stuck in a room with that short scientist.

"Hydra…" He muttered under his breath, the woman nodded.

"I'm Elise," she stated, taking a seat at the large round table and gesturing for him to sit down with her. She peeled through the files on the table. "This is Miss Genevieve's room."

"Where is she?" He asked as he placed his elbows on the table and placed his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair.

"She went to Austria two weeks ago with a group of german soldiers and we haven't heard a word since," the woman reached for his hand across the table. "She's a fighter. I know she's still alive, she promised me she'd find my husband. That woman never goes back on her word."

"Do you have any idea what happened?" He grabbed her hand, he could see the weakness in her face as she tried to keep her composure.

"We lost communication with her and the general she had been working with. Everything we had is gone, there's no way to reach her now. We've tried everyday for something to happen; to hear a voice on the other side but all we've gotten is static or silence."

Bucky stood up and walked over to the map, seeing a pin sticking up and turned to the woman.

"I want to know everything you know."

* * *

She stared up at the stout man in front of her, thick metal cuffs held her to a table. Her arms at her sides and her legs spread at the end of it. They had changed her clothing while she was unconscious, a hospital gown covered her but despite that she could still feel dried blood clinging to her. The man began talking again, his voice grating on her nerves.

"Have you ever tested your healing factor, Solider?" She looked at him with an unreadable expression. "You've lived for a very long time." He paused, jotting something down before speaking again. "Without your help much of the world would be very different."

"Last time we faced you we simply did not have the right tools to keep you in line. This time we do. It's a bit shocking you could say." He laughed at himself and beamed with pride over his bad pun. She stared at her sword the laid on a table across the room.

"That's the best you could come up with?" She said, making sure he could hear her. He stopped laughing as he placed his notepad on a desk and pinched the bridge of his nose before moving his glasses higher up on his face.

"You're a very smart woman," he started," I'd hope you'd know better, Fraulein."

"I could say the same for everyone in your organization. I spent a very long time believing it would help the world but after a while I learned exactly what HYDRA is." She looked at him with a grin, a soft chuckle escaping her.

"Before you finish, I would like to make clear of the situation you're in. No one is coming to save you." He slammed his hand down onto the table only inches from her face, his fingers tangling into her hair. Slowly he released her hair, matted curls falling back onto the table, flecks of dried blood falling off her hair. "You are completely at the mercy of my experiments. I wonder how I could test your healing without killing you? How can I take away the mystery of what surrounds you?" He grabbed a needle and tried to pierce her skin, watching as it snapped.

"Doing something mildly successful would certainly help." She felt a sharp sting across her face.

"Sharp witted woman," he grabbed a different tool this time. She smiled to herself but immediately frowned when he noticed. "You won't be doing that for a while."

He shoved a small piece of plastic into her mouth as she looked at him confused. "I do not enjoy in the suffering of others, Frauline. All the screaming gives me a headache. That is Herr Schmidt's' pleasure."

She watched as he flipped a switch and her whole body convulsed in pain. The man winced slightly as he walked to the other side of the table, eyeing how her body moved; how each muscle reacted. She hollered in pain through the piece of plastic between her teeth. He put in a pair of earplugs, sighing.

The feeling of cold metal against her thigh made her jump slightly as the electricity stopped coursing through her.

"This could've been easy." She could feel something cutting at her skin as she began screaming again, thousands of little blades ripping at her flesh as blood pooled onto the floor. Tears rolling down her face as she tried to move against the cuffs. "Fraulein, there is much worse to come."


	11. Gods Among Us

TheLightBehindHerEyes- Don't be sad! D: It'll get better eventually. I haven't decided when but eventually.

* * *

She looked up at the man, Zola, as he looked through his tools. Her body felt caked in blood, bruises forming along her skin. He looked down at her through a small microscope, examining her eyes which had begun glowing hours ago. Every so often he'd check them and jot down some notes before turning the machine back on. He never stayed very long, she had learned he couldn't stomach his work very well. Zola tried though, he hated screaming but he didn't mind blood or making her skin crawl.

"Fraulein, I feel as though I will never make any progress with you." His stubby little fingers grazed her arm as he walked back down the table. He spoke often but never got a response anymore. "After you left us we found the weapons that could hurt you. 'Weapons of the gods' Schmidt calls them but it's nothing more than refined vibranium."

He grabbed a knife and sliced her thigh with it, examining the tissue. "So much denser than a mortal's." The skin instantly began weaving itself together again, leaving no trace of the wound. When they had taken the bullets out from her capture he had watched as her skin tried to stop any intrusion, her eyes glowed despite her unconscious state. He placed his hands against her cheeks, leaning her forehead up as he bent down to kiss it. "Truly you are a marvel, Fraulein." She looked at him with a face of complete disgust, her eyes returning to their hazel color. He leaned down to her ear, staring at his watch.

"Listen to me," he started in a hurried whisper, turning her chin so her head was closer to hers. She could feel his breath on her skin and feel droplets of saliva as he spoke. "Herr Schmidt is coming now. He wants to test you, do not scream, do not talk back to him, Fraulein."

Zola ran back to the switch and flipped it as the door swung open.

"She's a fine specimen!" The man said as he walked to the table, she bit the piece of plastic and tried to hold back her screams. He turned to Zola who turned off the switch without question. "Here I thought we needed to create a higher being but one has been walking among us."

Her eyes opened as the pain stopped. The man hovering over the table looked more like a melted crayon than a person. Schmidt took the piece of plastic out of her mouth and smoothed her hair down.

"Do you believe there is a way to harness her power? You must be close to finding it, she's been here for almost a month." Zola immediately looked flustered.

"I've been trying but her body is much denser than a mere mortal's. Her blood and tissues are different than ours." He walked up to the Red Skull, waving his hands. "She is truly a god, Herr Skull, everything she is she was born as. It's in her very genetic coding and I have no way replicate that."

"Erskine's serum created Captain America," he scoffed at the name of the latter. "We must create the next superhuman." The Red Skull lifted her face off the table and showed it to Zola. "You have the material. You have the tools. I want results, Zola."

They walked to the other side of the room, Schmidt's arm around the scientist's shoulder.

"We are losing the war. HYDRA needs results." He heard a light chuckle and saw her looking at them, a smile on her face despite the blood and bruises that danced across it. Her eyes lit up and her face began to heal itself. They looked at her, Schmidt staring in awe and Zola in horror. He walked over to her and tried rubbing the blood off her face before grabbing a rag from a nearby sink to remove it. His touch was rough and she tried to pull away. He bore his black eyes into her hazel ones.

"Can you believe she's two-hundred years old?" The scientist said, distracting him for a brief moment.

"I want her cleaned off. I will find a suitable partner for her, she cannot look like this in front of my men."

"Herr Skull, there's not enough research on her physiology for us to decide whether she could even carry a hybrid child…." He started, walking over to the table. "She worked for HYDRA for a century and we have no evidence that any prior tests worked."

"We need a new test then. A child with more human qualities could be easier to work on." He bent back down and his face turned away when she spat in his face.

"Over my dead body," she growled, snapping her head up with the veins around her eyes becoming prominent. He was flung against the wall by an invisible barrier with Zola quickly following him. "You will never touch me that way!"

A small dome covered her, a soft hymn emitting from it. Schmidt ran to the switch and flipped it, she shook on the table but she still tried to focus on protecting herself. She just had to keep up the shield until someone came. There was no telling how long that would be.

They just keep on coming, she could see little cracks in the shield beginning to form. The pulses got stronger until the shield fell around her like pieces of glass before disintegrating completely. Her screams drowned everything out around her as her eyes snapped shut. There was almost no feeling in her throat by the time they shut it off, her screams were nothing more than breaths of hot air by the end of it. She turned to see Schmidt laughing.

"It might take persuasion," he said, his fingers on the switch," but I'm sure we'll see you in that position very soon."

Screams filled the room again as he flicked his fingers. She looked up at Zola, his face distorted in fear and then to the Red Skull, who basked in his newfound power over the gods he had sought out.


	12. Three Days

TheLightBehindHerEyes- I'M SORRY AND I'M EVEN MORE SORRY AFTER YOU FINISH READING THIS D:

* * *

Bucky sat at the back of the truck, looking out at the landscape behind him. The Howling Commandos prepared for their next raid of a HYDRA facility. He didn't know what to do to busy himself. In less than three days he would be in Austria, Steve had memorized most of the bases he had seen on a map when he had rescued Bucky. Now Bucky also knew where they were because of Genevieve. Every part of his body yearned for her again. He didn't know what was wrong with him, this woman had kissed him and yet here he was happy to be behind enemy lines because she was there too.

Despite the warm he felt growing he knew what he might find. He had imagined it in his nightmares, finding her head slumped on a laboratory table with blood and tears caked to her face. His eyes grew wide and tears began to pool in his eyes until Steve grabbed his shoulder, shaking him out of his terror.

"You seem off Bucky," he said. "This is just like any other attack."

"Don't make it sound so casual, Rodgers!" One exclaimed while cleaning out his gun. Bucky gave him a soft laugh.

"It's nothing, Steve. I'm just tired from the last raid. One of the men there got me good." He immediately looked concerned, scanning him over for any injury. "No, man, it's nothing like that."

"How are you and that redhead doing?" Steve asked, watching Bucky. "She didn't break your heart, did she?"

"She's a medic, you punk. She got sent to France; says she's coming back real soon though."

"That's wonderful. I'm so happy for you, Buck, got yourself a real beauty." He paused, looking at his gloves. "What was her name again?"

"Evie."

* * *

She got up from the table after being stuck to it for what had seemed like an eternity. Zola held onto her arm, steadying her as she walked from one side of the room to the other. His touch made her want to tear off her skin but for now he was the only person she had met here who would tell her what was happening.

"The collar around your neck will electrocute you if you do not do as you're told so remember that," he said. "Schmidt has decided who your partner will be."

She raised her eyebrow. "Can I have the name of my rapist?"

"No, Fraulein and he is not a rapist. This is science." Despite keeping her up she towered over him, she could've easy kicked him and ran. The look on her face told him she was certainly thinking of it.

They reached a locker room that had been cleared out. He slowly sat her down onto the floor while he turned on the shower.

"I'm sorry but I have to stay here to watch you," she rolled her eyes at him.

"Is it for science too?" He gave her two pink bottles and bent down behind her to untie her gown, the water already hitting her front. He could feel the remote in his collar getting heavier with every sarcastic remark.

"Fraulein, I have feed you every day and done my best to keep Schmidt away from you. Try and show some appreciation."

"Having my brains scrambled every day and night has truly made it difficult for me to be grateful," she muttered as he walked away.

"Please behave when we go to Schmidt. He has a remote too." She shimmied out of the gown with her back to Zola. He could see all of the cuts and bruises healing on her back. She shampooed her hair at least three times before the water ran clear. It was obvious she was going to drag out her shower for as long as she could. She kept her mouth open through most of it, greedily drinking whatever fell, not caring that Zola was watching. The feeling of water against her skin was amazing, she laid out against the cold tile hitting her back as the warm water hit her chest. He stared at her noticing her position change and then snapped his head, trying to look elsewhere. She closed her eyes before looking up at him. He saw the blood splattered against the walls from when she had whipped her hair behind her. She wrapped an arm around her chest to cover herself and tried to push herself back up with the other.

"Zola?"

"Are you done, Fraulein?" She nodded and tried to get over to a bench that was only a few feet away, it took quite a while but the man was slow so it didn't matter. A part of her felt sad for the little man who was almost more servant than scientist. He had tried to be menacing but it hadn't worked at all. She hunched over covering herself until he gave her towels, flinging one over her back and one on top of her head. He placed a hair brush next to her before sitting on a bench further away.

"Is this what you expected when you joined HYDRA?" She asked him as she rubbed the towel against her hair.

"I did not choose to join." He said simply, "they invaded the building I was working in; looking for a geneticist but instead they found me."

"What is your speciality?"

"You're a woman. What would you know?"

"I was born during the Enlightenment. I knew Isaac Newton for Christ's sake, read some of his work before he ever published it." He raised an eyebrow at that.

"I prefer algorithms and robotics but upon meeting you genetics is now much more fascinating." She shook her head in disappointment.

"I've always viewed myself as human." She stated clearly. "I guess for you it must be easier to experiment on me by viewing me as something more." He thought about that for a brief moment.

"No, this is science. There is no morality here." She giggled.

"You're no Schmidt."

"I have experimented on men before. American soldiers to be exact." She looked at him her brows knitted together. The pity she had felt for him faded away immediately. He could feel the tension filling the room as he handed her a new gown, quickly she changed into it. His hand returned to her arm as he lead her back through the halls. "Brace yourself for the worst."

He placed her on a bed which in all honesty didn't look much different than the laboratory table. The only difference was the thin stained mattress on top of it. There were cuffs attached to it. Zola's vibranium tools were laid out next to the bed on a table only a few feet away. She could sense someone else in the room and turned to the corner of the room, seeing him gesture for Zola to leave. He walked into the light, he had a stoic expression and pronounced wrinkles with a tuft of dark hair on of his head, the sides shaven. She grabbed the end of the bed and anchored herself up to look at his eyes. They were pitch black and void of anything remotely human. He placed his hand on her shoulder and tried to push her back down.

"What's your name?" She asked him as he grabbed one of her hands and placed it into a nearby cuff, hearing it shut with a loud snap.

"Johann." He nudged her onto the bed. She didn't have much strength left in her, if he was careful he might not even have to use the remote. He was clearly the right choice for this no other soldier could compare to one with Erskine's formula coursing through his veins.

She sat down, both hands balled into fists. He grabbed her and arranged her so she was under him, staring up at him with a blank expression. Her legs slowly moved upwards on the bed until the backs of her feet touched her thighs.

"Have you accepted what's about to happen?"

"You could say that," she said plainly as she quickly rolled slightly on her back and kicked him off the bed with both her feet. He fell backwards and hesitated on the floor, trying to catch his breath as he reached into his pocket and pushed the button. She shook, trying to rip the collar off with her free hand. It felt too tight, constricting her throat as she screamed. Once he got up he turned it off and he cuffed one of her feet to the edge of the bed as well. He placed himself in between her legs and watched as he unzipped his pants before turning away and looking at the wall. His hand was at the base of her throat, right below the collar, as he lined himself up with her.

"No cheeky remark now?" He asked as he thrusted into her. She barely reacted to the intrusion, her eyes becoming cloudy; her mind clearly elsewhere.

This was fine to him as long as she didn't fight back. He continued as small tears fell from her face. He was grunting now, his disgusting breath against the side of her face. His other hand grabbed her throat, both of them squeezing. She gasped and tried to fight back with her hand, clawing at his face. Her nails dug into it and she saw chunks of skin falling down to reveal red underneath.

She began screaming and trying to kick him with her unshackled leg while she clawed him. Her vision began to become black again as she saw the Red Skull looking down at her, most of his mask torn away and the rest falling off around him. She lost feeling in her free arm and leg as she passed out.


	13. Daybreak

She woke up and heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh behind her. Instinct immediately took over as a barrier started to form, he didn't take notice of it though. The cuffs had been removed because he had repositioned her various times throughout the night. In an instant he was thrown to the other side of the room, she got up and staggered to his limp body. She broke the remote in his pocket and looked for some sort of key for the collar.

She couldn't find one but she knew Zola would have it or know where it was. Quietly with one of the tools from the table she walked through the halls. If she could find him before he saw Schmidt she could easily subdue him before he could set off the collar.

A few guards were stationed around the laboratory, many of whom were women. She leaned against the wall and paused for a second before heading off into the opposite direction. If she couldn't get to Zola she could at least get rid of their plans for her. This was the most she had ever traveled around the building, she had no idea where to go. She just kept looking for a cross.

They viewed her body as something more than human but really, she knew, it wasn't. Eventually, she found the room she was looking for and scoured through the cabinets, pill bottles falling to the floor. There was female officers here, they must have had it. Her body hurt as she dragged herself across the room. Zola thought she understood little about science but when it came to the body she knew more than he ever would.

She grabbed the bottle she was looking for. In theory it should work, she told herself as she took a handful of pills and swallowed them, unsure of the dosage she would need. She wanted as much in her system as possible, just incase she couldn't escape. Her hands turned bone-white as she gripped the counter, forcing her body to keep the pills down. She got up slowly almost toppling back over when she saw herself in the mirror, her skin a mass of purple and black marks and cuts from Schmidt. This wasn't the time to get upset. She staggered out the door and went back to the Zola's lab, using her powers she made quick work of the guards.

He was hunched over a table, reading papers with his back turned to her. She walked over to him and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Herr Skull," he started off before turning around his eyes wide in fear. She placed the medical tool up to his neck, her arms held him to her from behind. "You escaped." He said in a monotone voice.

"I want the key," she told him, his hands were fiddling in his pockets. "If you press that remote you will die from the shock before I will." She placed her head on his, the collar rubbing up against his short hair.

"I know, Fraulein, I know. I made that collar." He dug through his pockets until he found it. The stout man turned around to face her as he took it off. Once it fell to the floor with a large thud, she sighed in relief before ramming her knee into his stomach. He toppled over and laid there unconscious as she made her escape. She saw her clothes in the corner of the lab and changed out of the hospital gown, they were riddled with bullet holes but she didn't care. The Austrian winter was rough and she needed to protect herself from the elements. She did her best to sneak through the halls, her legs were weak and weren't used to having to keep her up anymore.

The building was labyrinthian, she didn't where to go to leave. It seemed like she was going in circles. She heard the click of the intercom as it turned on. Red Skull was awake and more than ready for his payback.

She kicked open a vent and climbed into it, all of the guards were on high alert now. The halls were too risky, she didn't have a chance in hell of escaping that way. She shimmied through the vents. It took her hours to find the way out. She dropped down onto the floor, wincing at the pain that shot up her legs. Her eyes already glowing as she handled the guards. The door was right in front of her as she began limping towards it, tears of joy falling down her face. When she opened it she fell to her knees. The sun had never looked so beautiful, the way it's rays danced across the snow and the thick pine trees brought color back to the landscape against the crisp whiteness. She broke off into a sprint. Nothing from the facility mattered now that she was free. No more Schmidt or Zola. Her cheeks hurt as she smiled, feeling the wind through her hair and the cold winter air in her lungs.

She felt a pulse of energy hit her as she ran, knocking her off her feet. Her back hit a tree and her eyes snapped open as a barrier formed. A group of soldiers stood with guns, Schmidt standing in the front. They all fired again on his signal, breaking her shield. She got up and ran as fast as she could before hitting hit again, her body fell against the side of a hill and rolled through the snow. Her hands gripped her side when she was shot, her shirt had a hole burned in it and her skin was scorched with thick black marks. She rolled on her side and got on her hands and knees, trying to hurry as footsteps were coming closer. A hand reached out and gripped her hair before shoving her body against the ground. She turned to see Zola and Schmidt behind her, the latter's hands on the waistline of her pants while the soldiers had their guns pointed at her.

"After I'm done put her on ice," he told him as he yanked them down. She looked up at Zola who refused to look at the scene in front of him.

"On ice?" She repeated as his hand dug into her hair and forced her face into the snow.


	14. Longing

The Howling Commandos stormed the building and had decided to split up. Bucky walked through the corridors with his gun raised in front of him. He knew this was the best way to find Genevieve, no one was there to ask questions. The base was quiet now with most of the men and women lying on the floor. Everyone had put up a fight, there must have been something valuable here.

He wanted to scream out as he walked through the halls, peering into each room. He found a laboratory that was covered in blood and the air was thick and humid. The sight made him sick to his stomach as he walked into it, his boots walked through the sticky floor. He looked down at his shoes, seeing hairs sticking to their soles. Gingerly, he grabbed them and ran them under the sink; his gun placed next to him.

His heart plummeted into a fast rhythm as they revealed their copper tone. His eyes widened as he looked at the room again, he grabbed the gun and ran out of it, his other hand covering his mouth. He ran through the building, throwing every door open.

"Evie!" He shouted as he opened the doors. He threw open one door, the hinges squeaking in protest and alerting the guards in the room. Bucky shot one of them and punched the other, the man falling to the ground. He got on top of him, placing the gun to his temple.

"Where are the prisoners?" He snapped, getting closer to the man until their faces were only inches from each other.

"I don't know what-"

"You captured a woman with red hair a month ago! Where did they take her?" He man raised his hands in surrender.

"I don't know, she tried to escape and Herr Skull took her. Zola's the only other person who had contact with her!" Bucky got up and grabbed the man, placing his gun against the man's back.

"Show me where they went." The man began walking through the halls with Bucky behind him.

"There's underground tunnels connecting this building to another bunker."

"How do you know about this? You're clearly not very high up on the food chain," he told the man as he lead him to a tiled room. The man grabbed it and lifted it up, revealing stairs.

"Herr Skull was not been himself since that woman came."

"Why is that?" Bucky asked as he held the soldier to him as a shield.

"He's obsessed with her." He gulped a breath of air and continued," I saw what he did to her." Bucky stopped at the end of the stairs, looking at the man with furrowed brows.

"What did he do?" The man began sweating profusely, his words a mumbling mess and his voice cracking.

"He took her outside….He wanted us to watch." The man had tears in his eyes. "I didn't sign up for this." He was like a little kid. Bucky looked at him, he must've been no older than twenty.

"Look, kid," he began with a sigh, He didn't get to finish as a man shot the boy and he had to duck for cover. His back was against a crate, the room was dimly lit so he did his best to scan it. The boy died instantly and Bucky shot the soldier easily through a space in between the boxes. He weaved through the storage room, hearing voices getting closer as he advanced.

"Herr Skull said we couldn't open it. We only have an hour."

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him." Bucky saw the box they were fighting over, a cold fog floating around it as it leaned against the wall. One of them lifted the lid and whistled.

"It is a wonder though." His friend grabbed the lid and shoved it back down. Where he was he couldn't see what the man was pinning over.

"Didn't you see what he did?! Don't touch it! We move it to his new base and then we go home."

Barnes shot them both easily and ran over to the box, he grabbed the sides of the lid and chucked it across the room. It was like a glass casket. His hands touched the glass, rubbing away the frost. He let tears roll down his cheeks when he saw the her face again. Her curly red hair danced around her like a halo, her eyes were slightly open, and one hand was a small fist against the glass, the other pressed against it.

He placed his hand on hers, he could see the bruises that marked her body and the cuts. His warm pink hand against her blue one through the icy glass, he leaned his forehead against where hers was as well.

She couldn't be dead. He wanted to open the glass but fear struck him like a bolt of lightning. He could see all the flecks of dried blood in her hair, pieces had fallen onto her lashes as well masking the green of her eyes. They were glassy like a dolls and sadness crept from her very form. Her lips were parted, bruised and cut like the rest of her. The freckles that spread across her face were indistinguishable from the wounds and dried blood.

He couldn't look at her like this; not without knowing. The control panel next to her blinked and confused him. Bucky seeing only one way to not mess it up, backed away and shot at the bottom of the glass, trying to break it. A piece broke off, the frost escaping through the bottom.

He cursed under his breath as he looked around for anything to break more of the case, seeing a crowbar nearby he jumped at it and began breaking the rest of the glass.

She fell to her feet as the frost dissipated, panting. He dropped to his knees cradling her to his chest, feeling her heart beat. He cried into her hair until he felt a hand on his cheek.

"James," she whispered as she looked up at him, both hands holding his face. His hands warmed her skin as he caressed her through the torn gown she wore. His grey blue eyes shined as he saw her hazel ones looked up at him, watching his expression. He licked his thumb before wiping the blood off her face, a few left over tears falling onto her cheek,

"Doll, you can't ever leave me like that again," he told her, nudging his face into the crook of her neck, leaving kisses against her skin. Bucky held her hands as he tried to help her up only for her to fall onto his chest. He took his coat off and wrapped it around her before picking her up.

He walked back to the stairs taking his time and enjoying every second. She watched everything around her and grabbed the pistol from his left thigh holster.

"You okay?" He asked as she held his pistol. He felt dumb for saying that, looking at her in his arms, covered in wounds and shaking like a leaf.

"I'm fine Bucky, let's just get out of here," she said, looking up at him with the gun in her lap and one hand holding onto his shirt. He gave her a little kiss, she looked scared as he pulled away. He wanted to ask her about everything that had happened but for now he'd have to live with this. She pulled the coat over her shoulders, popping the collar so it covered her face, her eye peering over it with the gun in her hands. Bucky moved one hand on her shoulder, pulling her closer to him, nudging her head against him.

Something behind them fell and he snapped around to see a HYDRA agent aiming a gun at them, he was down within seconds as Genevieve shot him. She flung back against his chest from the recoil. Sweat stuck to her forehead as her breath heaved, her pupils dilated from the adrenaline. He held her closer, whispering how everything was okay, how she was okay.

They both knew how wrong he was.


	15. Benign

"Who's that? And why are your eyes so red? You like you've been crying." Steve told him, trying to look at the person hiding in Bucky's coat. Genevieve looked up at him.

"She's from a Paris, one of the resistance leaders HYDRA's been using for workers, anyways. Said her name was Evelyn Schwartz." He told him ignoring his other questions, he put one arm protectively on her shoulder and pulled her in to hide her face even more.

"Another Frenchie…." A man with a handlebar mustache muttered.

"Where'd you find her?" Steve asked.

"One of the laboratories," he said as he gingerly placed her down on one of the seats of the truck. Immediately, she objected but he cooed her and she relaxed. She held onto his hand as he walked closer to Steve, hiding her face with the other hand. "She's been through one hell of a beating, she's not comfortable showing her face right now, Steve. Didn't even want me to look at her, wouldn't even speak to me until I gave her the coat."

"So she does talk?"

"A little. I don't know what they did but she's incredibly malnourished," he looked over her skeletal frame. "Probably other things wrong too because of the scientist. She doesn't like talking too much because of it, I think." He tried his best to come across as though none of it bothered him, he looked over her body, swallowing down his anxiousness.

"The scientist?"

"Zola. I saw his name on some paperwork. Remember him from the Alps?" He nodded as he walked over to her, she covered her face with her hands.

"Can you walk?" She shook her head. Bucky sat next to her.

"Any family we can take you too?"

"Bristol...in England," she croaked in a passable accent. He placed his hands on her's holding them.

"You don't have anything to fear. We'll get you there just try to relax. We're all on the same team here." He was genuine and she knew that but she wasn't going to reveal herself to anyone else. Bucky was enough.

She waited for him to leave and go into a another truck, the other following the Captain's lead, before holding onto Bucky, he smothered her hair down and started whispering to her once they left.

She tried to return his coat to him but he insisted she keep it until they could find her a change of clothes. Another one of the Commandos joined them briefly during a stop and gave her a journal and a pen. He spoke to her in French, telling her how happy he was to see another French Resistance member, and she replied softly back to him. Jacques Dernier had lead a rebellion in Marseilles, he didn't spend very much time talking and went away almost as soon as he came. Bucky watched in silence as he couldn't understand them enough to join their conversation.

"I hope you don't mind the back story," he told her once Jacques had left.

"You weren't wrong," she told him with a chuckle.

"You did tell me you were in France before London."

"Never mentioned the rebelling though." He stared wide-eyed at her as she pushed the coat down, revealing her healed face. He wanted nothing more than to kiss each freckle on her face and shower her in affection. His heart started beating after as a thick blush spread across his cheeks.

"You must be joking." He laughed for a moment before becoming serious again, noticing her expression. "Wait. You're serious?"

"James, you know now that I've been fighting against Nazis. It's not much of a stretch." He was quiet, thinking about what to say. The words had been on the tip of his tongue since he found her, he wasn't sure if there would ever be a right time to ask this. They came out and he instantly wished he could take them back.

"What happened back there, back when you were with HYDRA?" He asked, peering into her eyes and looking for any shred of emotion. Her eyes became glassy as a tear slipped down her cheek.

"I don't want to talk about it," she murmured, leaning against him with her arms around herself, trying to comfort herself. He hugged her, letting the silence engulf them for what seemed like an eternity. Her body still hadn't healed completely, he could see how the bruises were darker on her thighs and the skin was raw as she scooted closer to him.

"Can I do anything to help you?"

"Not right now, James, but thank you for everything," she kissed him on the cheek, making sure it was fast enough that the others wouldn't see. She gave him a halfhearted smile and he smiled back unsure of what else to do.

They stopped once more, getting off the truck and onto a ship. It took six hours or so, Evie had fallen asleep halfway through the trip. Bucky wasn't going to wake her so he carried her onto it, keeping her covered with his coat. Steve quietly joined him as they ascended the ramp.

"They said they'll prepare a room for her-"

"Just put a cot in my room. I'll let her have the bed," Steve looked at him confused then everything aligned in his mind.

"Remember Evie, Buck. I don't know what you're feeling but don't let this ruin what you have." She stirred in his arms, one eye slightly opened as she spoke incoherently in a different language. Jacques and Gabe laughed as they passed them.

"What did she say?" Jacques stopped laughing as he heard Captain only for Gabe to place a hand on the Frenchman's shoulder.

"If she wanted you to know she would've spoken in English." They all laughed as they walked, Genevieve grimacing at the noisy men around her.


	16. Rusted

It had been nine days since they had started their journey on the ship. The showers were had been broken so they had done their best to clean the blood on her with a damp rag, it still clung to her hair like glue though. Genevieve hid in the room, seldomly coming out which was no surprise to Bucky. She was now calling him James which did surprise had first noticed it when they debated over sleeping arrangements.

"Look, Evie," he started off, pointing to the bed that was right beside the porthole, "you're going to sleep there" Then pointed to the cot she sat on. "That's where I'm going to sleep so move."

She laid out on the cot in protest. When she had woken up before he had laid her out on the bed, blankets covering her to her chin and she was alone. She had hobbled over to the cot by the time he returned to the room with a tray of food in his hands, that now sat on a table nearby. "No, you get the bed." He shook his head and crawled on the cot, placing his head on her chest. She didn't look at him but he knew he was making her uncomfortable.

"You don't gotta be so stubborn. C'mon get on the bed and rest." He sounded exasperated.

"The cot's fine but thank you, James." She said, not making eye contact with him. He sat up on his elbows and she wiggled beneath him, trying to sit up.

"The cots no better than cardboard."

She sighed, she had been on a metal lab table for a month making the cot feel luxurious in comparison. "I'll take the cot, James. Please get on the bed and sleep." She turned over as he got up and closed her eyes, effectively ending the conversation as he sat on the bed in frustration.

"Fine then," he muttered in annoyance before he kicked his shoes off and covered himself in the blanket.

A few days later, she sat on her now claimed cot with her legs freshly healed and wearing one of his t-shirts which he had given her. Her hair was vibrant from her recent shower, the mess of curls slightly more defined. The showers had been fixed the night before and the men given her bits of clothing to wear. The hospital gown she had been wearing was ripped and stained with blood, he couldn't look at it anymore so he happily went onto the deck and threw it out into the sea as she showered. She had spent almost an hour washing herself but when she had walked back into the room with her face covered by a towel he noticed a small smile on her face.

The food from a the first night had barely been touched and he ended up throwing it out. By day six on the ship he couldn't watch her getting weaker anymore so with the tray in hand he sat next to her as she read.

She moved the book slightly, eyeing the tray before returning to her reading. Jacques had given it to them a few days ago, something to make the time go by faster he told him as he shoved it into Bucky's arms.

"That's a bad idea. I get seasick." She said as he stirred the small bowl of chili. He looked at her as she closed the book and she reached for the glass of water and the crackers but he kept it out of her reach.

"Just try it," he placed the spoon up by her mouth and she begrudgingly ate it. She had a green tinge to her skin but she forced it down. They continued like that for a while before he gave her the water and crackers.

The amount of silence between them scared him. He wanted to know what she was thinking.

"In," he paused as he thought of how to phrase it," Austria, did you eat much?" She looked a little startled for a moment. Dazed into her own world but the ship rocked, snapping her out of it.

"Not really," she said plainly as she took a bite of the cracker. "This is probably the most I've ate in a while." The memory of the pills crept up but she pushed it back down. "I just have to get used to things again." The sadness in her voice tugged at him as she spoke, she mustered up a small smile for him too but even that a disparity to it.

He realized how long that might take as she ran to the window and flung it open. Everything in her stomach heaved in bursts onto the side of the ship. She could feel one hand in her hair trying to keep it out of her face, and the other on her back, rubbing it. Once she finished he sat her down on the bed.

She didn't argue as he wrapped her in the blanket, she leaned her back against the wall with her hands in her lap.

"You never told me about Zola," she said to him, looking at her hands. "I heard some of your friends talk about how you were captured by HYDRA and how they took you."

"I don't remember much," he bit the inside of his mouth and ran a hand through his hair. The latter was a nervous tick they both were doing at the moment. "I was too weak to stay awake by the time they separated us. Overworked in the factories." He showed her a needle prick on his arm. "I don't know what they did." She looked at it, her fingers touching his skin then looked at the ceiling. She closed her eyes for a moment before speaking.

"They didn't let me sleep much. I remember everything, all the probing and the cutting. The shocks…."

"Schmidt…." He watched as tears rolled freely down her face. It broke his heart to listen to her. "He raped me. Made the guards watch sometimes. I couldn't fight back, if I did they'd flip the switch and shock me. It lasted through the night when they felt I deserved it."

"That's never going to happen again," he said, he went to hold her hand to comfort her but then placed it on the edge of the bed. "I won't touch you anymore if it'll make you feel better. And no one else will either."

She sat up on her knees and hugged him, his head inches from her heart. It sounded like a hummingbird's as it fluttered. Uncertainty hit him but he wrapped his arms around her trying to get closer her. Trying to hold her together while she crumbled into tears with her head resting on the top of his.

She was his girl. Evie slumped down making their foreheads touch for a second before she kissed him.

He felt a warmth from her that he had been missing since her disappearance and he deepened the kiss. Neither one of them wanted it to end as they stopped for air.

She held him onto him as he laid down on the bed, her face nuzzling against the crook of his shoulder.

"I just have to get used to it again," she said. "You're not them. You're my James."


	17. Nine

She sat on the bed reading as James looked out the open porthole. He had tried to read the book Jacques had given her, only to realize it was in French. Genevieve had spoke little of it and would occasionally draw pictures in her journal. They were of people in old clothes which he didn't know how to feel about. It was odd for him, would've been odd to anyone, he thought to himself.

Today was another day of sketches. He turned to her, watching as she sketched out the face of a man. She didn't mind him watching her, there wasn't much else to do. Sometimes she'd even tell him tidbits about them.

By the time she was done it was an older man with a thick beard, his thinning hair combed his head. He definitely stood out amongst the others.

"Who's that?"

"My father," she said plainly. He looked at her in confusion.

"You told me you didn't have any family." He felt betrayed, she had lied to him. It didn't go unnoticed

"I don't have anything biological," she looked at him for a moment before adding some detail to the man's eyes. "He took me in after losing his son at the Battle of Narva."

"Oh." She looked at him and nudged his shoulder with hers.

"It's a lot to handle and I'm confusing too. I can't blame you for it." She laughed for a second, shaking her head. "I'm old."

"Don't look a day over twenty-six though," he teased. "You don't talk much about when you were young." She ran a hand through her hair and bit her lip.

"What do you want to talk about?" He pointed to her drawing and then asked if it was okay. She nodded and continued. "Well, he gave me my name and we traveled often. He was already in his forties by the time he took me in and after losing Erik." There was a pause. "He just had no love for the country. We lived in France which he had always loved. He died of old age in 1744, I think. I wasn't there."

That explained her name. He could see her eyes spark when she talked about him. It continued for a little while longer. She spoke of old philosophers and poets, scientists too. They were who she had been drawing. Keats and Byron sat on a page together. Newton and Rousseau on another. She spoke of women as well like Ada Lovelace and Mary Wollstonecraft.

"Were any of these fellas more than just friends?" He asked in a teasing tone, raising his eyebrows. She laughed a thick blush spread against her cheeks, covering her hands with her face. "Is that a yes?"

"Stop that," she tried to contain her fits of giggles, rolling over on the bed, "it's so embarrassing!"

"Oh, you're gonna tell me now." His hands crept onto her exposed side as he began mercilessly tickling her. The book and journal pushed off the bed. She couldn't speak, their laughter instead filling the room. "I'd stop if you'd tell me!" A smile across his face and pure joy radiated from him. Nothing felt like they could hurt them at this moment, this was what it should've always been like.

James looked over at the journal on the floor recognizing the face looking back at him.

He relented and she tried to collect her breath while he grabbed the journal. His hands flipped through the pages, finding more pictures. She noticed a smug grin across his face.

He showed her one of a sleeping man with his hair disheveled, stubble across his face. "Now who's this handsome devil," he asked plopping back onto the bed next to her. She rolled her eyes at him. He pointed to the picture of him.

"You're too much for me," she sighed, taking away the journal. He itched his face before wrapping his arms around her waist, his head in her lap.

"You say that but I would dare to say you're getting sweet on me," he said as she ran her fingers through his hair. She snorted and laid down on the bed, grabbing the book off the floor. He crawled on his elbows towards her.

"You look really cute when you're deep in thought," he said as she read. She raised an eyebrow. "Can you read it to me?"

She sat up and took a deep breath.

"Do you like Keats? It's all I've got." She told him with a smile, turning the page. They sat there for hours, the frigid cold eventually hitting them as night approached. James didn't want it to end but he knew that she needed rest. The feelings he felt for her were indescribable to him. So many girls but nothing ever hit close to what this one did to him. He yawned as he got up and closed the window.

"Think we should call it a night?" He asked as he stretched out.

"I could stop reading if you want." She moved to her cot, book in hand. He sat down on the bed after trying to give her the bed again which she outright denied. His hands were held up in surrender as he laid down.

She couldn't sleep and continued to read to herself once he had fallen asleep. They had an emergency kit with a flashlight in it which she quietly took. Reading helped her keep her demons at bay.

James ended up waking up in the middle of the night as the ship rocked from the waves. She looked at him as his light snoring stopped. He was groggy, rubbing his eyes and yawning again.

"Don't you know what an emergency is?" He asked in a sleepy voice as he looked at her.

"Maybe," she replied to him half paying attention. He sighed, there was no use crying about it.

"You should try to sleep."

"I could," she said, moving the flashlight's beam from the book to his face. "But then I wouldn't get to watch you."

"That's a little creepy, doll." She laughed before moving the light under her chin and trying to make a scary face.

"I want to suck your blood," she said in an awful Romanian accent. He chuckled, rubbing his face in his palms as he sat up.

"You have to much energy," he muttered, reaching over to her face. His hand was warm and she nudged her cheek into it. "Read to me some more."

She started reading the poems again as he laid back down, his eyes closed.

" _-And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,_

 _That I shall never look upon thee more,_

 _Never have relish in the faery power_

 _Of unreflecting love—then on the shore_

 _Of the wide world I stand alone, and think_

 _Till love and fame to nothingness do sink."_

He began to snore again and she sighed. This must've been the ninth poem she had read to him today. She moved a few strands of hair from his face. In the silence she looked up at the ceiling with a small smile.

"It was Byron, by the way." She said quietly to him as she fell asleep, she couldn't help the warm feeling in her chest as her last thought was James and her in some land far away.

* * *

The poem she quotes is _When I have Fears That I May Cease to Be_ by John Keats.


	18. Homecoming

She looked out the porthole as they docked in Bristol. It was raining so she wore a raincoat as she left the ship waving goodbye to the crew, her hood covering her face. Jacques was sad to see her go wishing they could have spoken more as she handed him over his book and thanked him. Bucky watched as she left his field of vision, heading down to a train station.

In a few hours they'd be together again. He wished it could've gone by faster but once he looked into the large house on the corner the next morning, her hair noticeable in the window everything was right again. Or as right as it could be.

She was speaking to the children in a mix of English and German with something in her hands. They had swarmed her when she set foot in the house. And it wasn't just the children. She swore if anymore people came up to her the small foyer's floor was going to collapse. Everyone looked so much healthier now, she smiled with tears in her eyes. They had been okay. All of them were there with meat on their bones and smiles.

Evie walked to the older woman once everything had settled, making sure everything was financially secure and that no mishaps had happened during her 'unexpected vacation' as Mrs. Schwartz had put it. It had been perfect, well, besides the children doing what children do. Wreak havoc. It took a while but she snuck into her room, fixing it a little. She needed to keep busy.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, she joined them again with one of her books in hand. She spoke to them, trying to help them learn each language as she read to them.

She could feel someone staring at her through the windows, hesitantly she looked and saw James there. He wore different clothes and was clean shaven, his hair looking a little shorter too.

One of the woman let him in and he took in her appearance. The white blouse tucked into a loose skirt, her hair is a rough braid with pieces jutting out of it. She led him to her room and closed the door behind them.

He took in the room again, the towers of books, the maps. She had organized the files a bit he'd noticed and the herbs were now in bottles on a nearby dresser. The table in the middle of the room had been cleared off as well except for one old file. She swallowed her fears as she grabbed it and sat on the bed, him soon joining her.

"There's something I need to show you," she muttered, handing him the file. He gave her a bewildered look as he opened it.

"What is this?" He read her name that was written across it, recognizing the insignia. "You've been lying to me this whole time. You're the enemy."

"No, I did not lie James. I was HYDRA once….A very very long time ago." She could feel the next question coming. "When my father fell ill, he was already old and frail while I was still what I am now. A man came to me. He said how he could save him but in return I had to work for him," she rubbed her temples. She could remember finding his bones under the floorboards, the ring she had given him on his bony finger. All the men who pretended to be him through the thick curtains of his bed. All the lies. "A debt he told me, one lifetime for another but Frederick died anyway." Her eyes studied him, his body language everything she could see. "With everything that's happened I wanted no secrets between us. I can't live with things behind my back."

"When were you going to tell me this?" He asked, looking through them. It showed her missions and the years she was active in messy handwriting. 1722-1804.

"I hadn't been thinking about it before I got captured," she ran a hand through her hair. "I... If I didn't do it now I don't know if I ever would, James." She wouldn't look at him now as shame swirled through her.

"You left it," he said stoically.

"I couldn't hurt people anymore." She looked at her hands now as if fresh blood was stained on them. "I started healing people after I left. It's the reason why this house is this way. I needed atonement for my wrongs. I'm s-sorry."

He looked at her as she spoke in her broken voice, her face a river now. She wasn't HYDRA anymore and he knew that, what she had told him on the ship about Schmidt had been genuine. The way she looked when he had found her, everything hit him.

"Is there anything else?" He asked as he went back to that bloody room in Austria, her hair clinging to his boots.

"No."

She stared at him as he pulled her into a hug, her face covered in lines from her tears. "How'd you find him?"

They spoke of everything she had done. Regret flooded the room, she had never wanted this life any of this. He felt sick through most of it. She spoke of the experiments they had done all those years ago to her, the missions she went on. Finding her father, how they had found each other.

James didn't know what to say about the amount of information given to him. The trust they had was shaken but he still forced himself to believe her. She had every opportunity to kill him and Captain but she didn't.

He spoke to her too trying to make it easier. His fears about how he might never see his sister again, Steve, everything just came out. He told her of his childhood in Brooklyn, protecting little Steve. Trying to teach him how to box before they went to get recruited and how many times his friend had fallen over. She laughed at some of it, making him feel better. They laid together on the bed for a while, telling little stories here and there.

She laid down on the bed, her hair framing her face. He could see all the freckles on her arms and legs as she sprawled out. They spread across her collarbones. Her eyes closed as they became quiet.

He leaned into her, kissing her lips. She almost jumped in surprise as they kissed but she leaned into him as well. They separated for a few seconds before joining each other again. They became an entangled mass of limbs rolling around on the bed, kissing every so often. By the time they had finished, their lips were sore and their hearts were beating out of their chests.

"I think we deserve a break," he told her. "After the war, I can show you Brooklyn, maybe we could travel the country. Anything will do."

"I'd like that," she walked over to the other side of the room, opening the curtains. It was pitch black outside. They had been together in the room for hours. He looked and got up, stretching.

"I better get going, doll," he kissed her. She walked with him through the halls, her hand in his. "I'll be back tomorrow. I have a mission coming up soon so I can't promise anything after that. Got a few months though."

She nodded and gave him a goodbye hug. "You better come back to me James."


	19. Furnace

They spent almost everyday together if he wasn't training with Steve. It had become a normal thing for them now. It had been months since their return to England. It was fall now, he would be back in action with Cap in less than a week for a month long mission.

Fear hung over them like a gas cloud, suffocating them. He wasn't sure when he'd ever be able to get close to her.

On one of their dates they sat in a photobooth together and he placed his hand on her thigh, telling her to smile as the flash went off for the last time. She knew he wasn't her captors but still when his hand caressed her thigh she couldn't help the shivers she felt. He didn't say anything as he saw her pupils dilate before she relaxed, taking in a deep breath. Kisses and hugs didn't bother her but they were the only things Schmidt didn't do to her. It was just everything else beyond that he couldn't do.

Then the women told him how she had started tossing in her sleep, screaming for help.

She wasn't human. One accidental swing of her arm could fatally injure someone. She hadn't been like that on the ship but she barely slept when had been on it. Maybe she had been hiding it. He felt that after he uncovered one mystery then more appeared to take its place.

Today he had seen it. In the soft glow of the small furnace, her skin orange from the fire and shadows dancing around her during the chilly morning. He had left the base in the hopes they could go out. Explore. It would be good for her to leave the house for a while.

She laid there, tossing and turning as shivers went through her spine. A cold sweat across her brow as they furrowed. Her hair stuck to her forehead, matting around her face. All she had on was a thin nightgown, there was no reason for her to be warm. Even with the furnace going the room had a chill. Quietly he put more coal in it, hoping it would keep her from getting sick. He wasn't even sure she could.

He sat on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on her leg. Wanting to comfort her, to tell her she wasn't alone in that room. She kicked him away and started screaming, her eyes snapping open as she crawled away from him. Her back hit the headboard as she scurried away, her eyes blown out in fear as they started to change color.

"Genevieve!" He screamed, trying to grab her. Her fist narrowly missed his face as it hit the side of the wooden headboard, splinters littering the floor. "Evie!"

She snapped out of it,her eyes turned amber in the fire's light with the green sparkling slightly. Her hands reached to hold her face as she began muttering to herself.

"Shhh," he murmured," you're safe."

"James maybe you shouldn't see me anymore. Once I'm better we could-" No more distance, he thought to himself.

"Don't even. I lost you once," he said. He wanted to reach out to her but knew better. It would only make her worse. She wanted his touch but fear held onto her in a vise grip. The feeling of vulnerability she felt was new to her.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, "but the thought of me hurting you scares me."

"Please," he scoffed, "I'm not that breakable." The look she gave him showed her disagreement. "I'm not leaving my best girl."

"Fat-head." He laughed at that, sitting down next to her. James placed his hand near hers in hopes she'd touch him of her own will, he felt warmer than the furnace when her soft fingers intertwined with his own rough ones. She gave him a smile, feelings swelled in her chest as she laid her head down on his lap, swallowing her fears. Uncertainty stuck and she pushed it down, feeling brave. She couldn't stand to e this way anymore. Not around him.

"You don't have to make yourself uncomfortable."

"I want too," she said, earning a confused look from him. She grabbed his other hand. Thoughts ran through her head as she placed it on her chest, sliding it slightly under the hem of the gown. He almost moved it away acting as if he had been burned but her eyes told him it was alright.

"You can stop it whenever you want," he told her as his hand slid further until he caressed her breast in his hand. Her eyes were immediately cloudy as she arched her back and pushed more into his touch. Her back on his legs now and her head on the squeezed it, ever so slightly and a small moan escaped her. Gunmetal blue eyes watched her as she gasped when he pinched her. She could feel him stiffen against her back.

Her hands reached for the bottom of her nightie.

"Doll, you don't-" The dress was already thrown onto the floor before he could finish. She sat up on her knees again with only her white underwear covering her, her chest completely exposed to him. Her hands reached out at his clothes and he grabbed them as her fingers touched the collar of his shirt. "No, doll, not yet," he cooed as he laid her on the bed, her head on the pillows with her hair fanning around her like fire. She looked ethereal as the fire's light ran on her skin, making odd patterns as he touched her again.

Fingers ran down her sides as he leaned down, sucking on her freckled skin. Leaving little marks in his wake, her legs rubbed together as he continued. She needed something to make the need stop. He could see the need in her eyes and teased her more, sucking on one of her breasts while his hand pinched the other's small bud.

"James," she whined when he got closer to her face, kissing the spots that dotted her collarbones before kissing her rosy lips. He could feel her fingers in his hair pulling him close to her. He was like oxygen to her, filling her lungs, making her heart beat at a pace she didn't know it could. He was everything to her at this moment.

His hand traveled lower, his fingers on the top of her underwear.

"We can stop now, doll." Her brows knitted together and she put her thumbs on the sides of their bands, pulling them down and soon they joined her nightie on the floor. Her small hand placed his in the middle of her legs as she took a deep breath and spread herself open for him.

"Please." He didn't need anything besides that, running his fingers in small circles as he slipped into her folds. When they reached the small bundle of nerves her hips jutted out and he maneuvered himself between her legs, using one hand to keep her still. His member strained against his trousers as he slipped a finger into her, her mouth forming a small 'o' as he slowly pushed further to her core. Her moans grew louder as he continued, picking up his pace. He wanted to take her right then and there as her back arched under him, making the most wanton noises he had ever heard. She started rocking into his finger as he moved the other hand from her hip to the nerves he had teased before, slipping another finger inside her. A gasp escaped her mouth as she tried to follow the rhyme of his hands, tightening around him.

"I-I'm gonna cum, James! James-" she cried out as his lips crushed hers. His lips kissed the shell of her ear as he whispered to her.

"Go ahead, doll," he murmured as he quickened his movements. Her walls contracted around his digits as she rode out her orgasm. She said his name as her body relaxed, gasping for air. He watched her eyes looked up at him, little tears falling down her face as she got up and kissed him. She had forgotten how good it could feel. The kiss was slow and he could feel her heart beat against his chest as she embraced him, holding onto him as though he could slip between her fingers. The distance he had felt melted away.

She looked at his hands and brought them to her mouth, licking each of them clean. His whole body reacted to the heat of her mouth around his fingers, wondering what it would feel like else where.

He jumped slightly when her fingers slipped under his the waistband of his pants, her head down as she looked at the button on them. She wanted him to feel like she did. The butterflies fluttering around every nerve of her body, the simplest touch amplified.

'Evie, no. I-"

He stopped when she looked up at him, her eyes boring into his as the button opened. Lust pooled into them as they stared, his hands grabbed the waist of his pants and pulled them down around his knees.

He never wanted this morning to end as her hazel eyes changed in the light of the furnace. He didn't know what he was getting into as she bit the inside of her cheek and ran her fingers through her disheveled hair. She was the most wondrous thing he had ever seen and the look she gave told him he was in for it.


	20. One

He watched her as she kneeled down in front of him, her hand pulling his boxers down. It practically popped out.

"If you feel uncomfortable. You don't have to do this, doll." He said placing a hand on her shoulder.

"You made me feel good so I want to do the same for you." She replied, her fingers fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. Soon his clothes ended up with hers, he laid on the bed as she placed herself at his side. She gave him a small kiss, the taste of herself was on her tongue as their lips meet; she was sweet. Her eyes went down to his manhood and she returned her attention to his hard member. He didn't think it would last very long once her hand began to go up and down his cock in a slow motion, picking up speed gradually.

She tilted her head slightly and bit her lip for a second before his hand was on her back where her spine and shoulder blades met. She leaned down, the plume of fiery hair on her head obstructing his view as her tongue licked the underside of his tip. She heard him groan as she continued, switching it between that and long licks, flicking her tongue every so often.

"Fuck, Evie…" His voice musky, it sending a need to the area he had teased only minutes before. She moaned a little as his hand ran up and down her spine, returning to its original spot after trailing a few times.

The large hand pushed her down more as her mouth descended on him. He cursed under his breath as she started bobbing her head. His other hand moved her hair out of her face, watching her for any hint of regret but he found none. He ran it up and down her body, encouraging her as her hand followed her mouth as she moved along him. The hand at her back moved between her legs now, making her moan into him. She was sopping wet as he moved his finger along her slit. Her small hand held him down as he tried to thrust into her mouth, the warmth too inviting. The moans coming from her driving him mad. He tried to contain it as his seed spilled into her mouth, she swallowed it.

He cupped her face and kissed her, tasting himself on her. It stirred something feral in him as he rolled her over so he was ontop of her. His eyes scanned her face as she placed her hands on his bare chest, feeling the muscle. The look in her eyes was indescribable to him.

"Are you scared?" He asked his voice still husky.

"No," she replied in a low voice with her eyes slightly parted as she rolled her hips against his, a soft whimper escaping her throat. He slowly eased himself into her, allowing her to adjust to him as he stood still. Another moan echoed between them once he was completely inside of her heat. Her walls already clamping around him as she got used to him.

"Doll, you're so tight," he leaned his head down by her neck leaving more marks along her throat and at the soft spot behind her ear. She moved her body with his, meeting his thrusts as his abdomen brushed against her bundle of nerves. Her mouth gasping his name. He wanted much more of that.

He wanted her to feel good and he moved his hand between them, her toes curled as he touched her, her legs tensing as she shook around him. The walls around him began to spasm as her breath hitched. His free hand went to her hair keeping it out of his face as he watched what he was doing to her, her brows knitted together. Her hair a glowing veil around her as the furnace gleamed, marking her in shadows. Her hands balling up the sheets beside her head, giving the flush of her cheeks a red hue. He wanted to remember her like this, their first time. No fear or distance separating them. The way she said his name as she tried to breath. His head slumped beside hers as he thrusted into her for the last time, reaching his climax. Sweat coated the two of them as they laid there, she turned to him. Her eyes meeting his as she ran her hand along his face, her nose rubbed against his. He pulled out of her and laid beside her on his side.

He smiled with a soft chuckle, his eyes showing the bliss he felt. The warmth he had felt for her finally melded together into one thing.

"I love you Evie." She rolled on her side, watching him as her hands ran through his hair. She looked sad as her eyes became glassy.

"I love you too," she stuttered out, a tear falling. He wiped it away. He held her too him.

"No more tears anymore, doll."

"You're getting sweet on me," she muttered. "I don't deserve it after everything."

He lightly slapped ass earning a small shriek, he laughed. "You're my best girl, Genevieve. If anything I need to be sweeter on you."

She curled next to him, smiling as they cuddled. Their hands roaming each other's body, memorizing every curve and angle under the fire's light. The way his hair shined with strands of gold and red, mixing with chestnut. Tracing down to his hips where they pushed against his skin, all the muscle where it connected.

He did the same, feeling her curves. Wanting to count every freckle. He could've stayed there forever. They crawled under a thick blanket and he grabbed a nearby book, happy to see it was in English.

"I was never much of a poetry person," he said, flipping through it," but it's grown on me because of you, doll." She giggled. Her eyes grew wide as she saw the author of the book, biting her lip.

She laid next to him, listening to him as he spoke. Her eyes sparkling as he recited the words.

" _-My dream was past; it had no further change._

 _It was of a strange order, that the doom_

 _Of these two creatures should be thus traced out_

 _Almost like a reality—the one_

 _To end in madness—both in misery._ "

A sigh escaped her as she grabbed another book. "I knew Byron, not much of a fan of his poetry though." She gave him the book,"here's Keats."

"I wouldn't be either if had been with him," he muttered, a smug grin on his face. She playfully smacked him. Their playing turned into lovemaking as they intertwined. The books falling off the floor as they became one again. All worries forgotten.

* * *

The poem from the chapter is The Dream by Lord Byron, it's the last stanza.


	21. Freight Car

They laid together on her bed, sleeping as snow began to fall outside. The furnace roaring next to them because of the cold January air. She nuzzled against his chest while his hand rested on the small of her back.

Tomorrow him and Cap would be going after Zola and Schmidt. He closed his eyes thinking back on the past year.

"It's been a year and a month since we meet," he muttered to her, she softly smiled at him. They could hear the children playing their kazoos outside the door, trying to get their attention. Christmas had just passed and the excitement still hung in the air.

"Already?" He scratched his face.

"We meet in November of '43 and its now 1945 as of last night. My math could be a little off but..." He replied sarcastically dragging out the last word. She rolled her eyes.

She rested her head back on his chest and thought of what the future could bring. Tomorrow loomed over them like smog.

"James, you know," she started," you don't have to go tomorrow. You could just stay here."

"I can't leave Steve to deal with HYDRA all by himself," his hands went to her hair, tangling his fingers in it. "You worry too much."

"After everything they did to me, I worry just the right amount. I don't want anything like that to happen to you." She looked at him, their eyes meeting.

"I'll be fine, doll," he said, kissing her forehead. The kids were at the door screaming for them now, pulling them back to the world.

"We better go before they tear the door off the hinges," she mumbled to him, sitting up and throwing her clothes back on.

When they were ready, her hand on the doorknob and the other twisting the lock, he placed his hand on her shoulder. He could see the worry in her, it was enveloping everything she did.

He kissed her cheek. "I'll come back in a few days, Evie. This is war and I can't leave the fellas to fight it by themselves." She sighed.

"I know James."

She kissed him. If she had known what was about to happen she wouldn't have let him leave. Would've made sure he knew how she felt.

Hell, she would've went with him.

* * *

He didn't come back. It had been over a month and she hadn't gotten a letter from him or a call. Nothing. She went to the base, looking for an answer instead finding a woman with curly brown hair.

"Sergeant Barnes fell into a ravine on his last mission. He is currently M.I.A.," she stated. Genevieve asked questions, wanting to know where. The woman refused to give her the answers she needed.

"He spoke of you to Captain Rogers," she choked up a little, saying his name. Blinking back her tears. "I'm sorry for your loss. He spoke very highly of you."

"I'm sorry about yours too," the redhead told her as she left the faculty. Later that night she snuck in and looked for the answers herself.

She ran out of the building and back to the house. It would be empty soon, the war was almost over. People were already leaving, most of the kids returned to whatever they had left. A few remained with the adults in the house. They didn't want to leave.

"I won't be coming back," she told the adults, handing them bills and papers. "You'll need these."

"But why?" One of them questioned.

"You don't need me anymore. Go live out your lives, be happy," she grabbed an old blue coat, still slightly stained with dark patches and left them in silence. She turned to little Aliza and smiled one last time.

It would be a long journey, she knew that already.

She felt she had given the world the penance she owed it. Enough to be selfish for the first time in over a century.

HYDRA was weak now and she tore through any base she found, looking for any information they had. Nothing ever helped her. It let out her anger, her hatred. Zola was behind bars and Schmidt was dead, she had nothing to fear now but herself.

She stood at the base of the ravine where he had fallen, no blood or footprints to track.

An animal could have dragged him away, he could've died on impact. It was a long fall from the tracks. When she found a small object, shining up at her and she couldn't fight the tears that fell from her face as she walked through the snow. His dogtags.

In her sadness she continued to drudge through the iciness, calling his name. She didn't care if anyone heard her, her voice was sore as the sky went black.

He shouldn't have left. It was all her fault. She wore them around her neck as she held herself. Snowflakes sticking to her wet face and lashes, her lips chapped.

By the time the tears stopped she wasn't sure if she would ever feel right again. Guilt covered her like a shroud, nothing could grow in the void she was falling into. There was no light.

Eventually her legs gave out under her, she wasn't sure how long that had kept her up. Could've been hours. Might've been days.

She looked up and saw something peeking out by a tree. Two animals fighting over it. Her eyes widened as she ran to it. Hoping it wasn't what she thought it was.

She held it in her hands, the frost had changed the color of it. This couldn't have been where he fell it was so far away from the train tracks, this couldn't have been his hand in hers. Nothing made sense in her head, she couldn't process anything.

She pulled it to her, cradling it as she walked forcing her body to keep going. She had to keep going. This was her punishment.

"I love you, James." She murmured as she dug a small hole in the ground, placing his arm gingerly into it before covering it. "I loved you, James."

The dogtags felt like chains around her neck as she laid in the snow by his fresh grave.


	22. Seventeen

March 11, 1962. Vietnam.

He had been on her trail for weeks, his handlers told him what he needed to know. The collar at the side of his belt. She walked from village to village, healing the sick and bringing whatever food she had for them. When he found her she was skeletal, her hair limp and dead on her head. Dirt and leaves decorated her like ornaments on a Christmas tree. A tattered tank top and open button up covered her torso, army pants and combat boots on her lower half. A small radio was clipped to her waist as she pushed through the terrain, a machete in her hand. Two large dogs walked with her. A scouting dog to watch for traps, a large doberman and a sentry dog who kept his nose to the ground. They had lost their platoon during a guerrilla attack, she must have took them he assumed by the vests the dogs wore.

"It was his birthday yesterday. He would've been forty-five," she told the dogs as she flipped on a station, tears falling down her face. He had seen her walk through a cloud of Agent Orange, it affected her. Her body was trying to fix itself. She was delirious now, weak. Her body was fighting the toxins that surrounded her now. To anyone else she was insane. The dogs nudged her sides, trying to get her attention. Even they knew she needed rest and food. He could hear her whisper to them every so often. 'I deserve this ' or 'the nightmare's will come back.'

"He's still falling." He wanted to be quiet, everything about her disturbed him. Nothing was supposed to bother him. No feelings hindered him, he didn't know if he ever had them.

He stared at the one obstacle in his path. The sentry dog was an issue. The shepherd was always watching, the soldier couldn't get within striking range of her. He had tried before. A soft voice echoed from her radio as they marched.

 _Only you can make all this world seem right_

 _Only you can make the darkness bright_

 _Only you and you alone_

Her necklace got caught on a tree branch and fell into the muck around them, she crouched down trying to find it. The dogs digging to retrieve it as well. The shepherd saw him as he slowly approached, a low growl coming from the back of its throat. He shot it between the eyes as it pounced at him.

 _Can thrill me like you do_

She screamed, reaching out for the dog as she turned around. The silver necklace in her other hand. "Ace!"

 _And fill my heart with love for only you_

"Leave me alone." He could see the panic on her face, her hazel eyes widen as she grabbed the other dog with one hand and ran. Something inside him twitched but he wasn't sure what. She was fast now as adrenaline raced through her. Her voice was soft as she murmured to the doberman, telling it to shush. Her radio still playing, giving off her location. She was banging on it with the machete's handle, trying to pop the batteries out. She wasn't as far gone as he had hoped.

 _Only you can make all this change in me_

 _For it's true, you are my destiny_

 _When you hold my hand_

 _I understand the magic that you do_

 _You're my dream come true_

 _My one and only you_

He closed in on them slowly, her eyes glowing now as she flung him back. His back hit a tree with a nearby thud, he made sure his mask was still on as he got back up. She was tired from the traveling and the constant strain on her powers from healing. Healing everything in this hell. It worked to his advantage.

She slowed down after fifty feet of jungle was behind her, falling to her knees. The scientist had called her a god, he couldn't believe that right now. She was so pathetic.

The dog fell out of her hands and went after him, it suffered the same fate as the one before it. He felt pity as she put her hands in front of her, her eyes looked like a broken television screen as they flickered.

He grabbed her arm with his metal arm, twisting it behind her back. She shrieked in pain, her eyes closing tightly. The necklace fell out of her hands. Something snapped, her eyes white again. A low growl echoed around them as she sprung backwards. He thought it was another animal hiding in the jungle before he realized it was her.

She took a few steps backwards and attacked him, her small body on top of his. "That's all I have left of him! Don't take it away from me!" His glasses fell off and she looked into his eyes. Her eyes hazel again, her hand pulling at her hair.

"Why do you have his eyes?" She mumbled in fear as she got off of him, grabbing the tags. She was screeching now, running from him. Her broken arm limped helplessly behind her. "You're not him! He's gone!"

He wasn't human. His arm caught the sun's light, glowing. He was nothing but a killing machine now. HYDRA's fist.

She threw the necklace around her neck as she escaped. I have to get out of her, she thought to herself. Sanity was finally taking over. She had been like this for so long now. It finally clicked to her, she was going to die if she didn't change. That change needed to happen now. He grabbed the sniper rifle from his back and aimed for her legs, he shot her calves. She toppled over, now crawling to escape him. He walked over to her, she was incoherently whispering to herself. Something about Neverland, more things hit him but he forced it down.

He bent down in front of her and put the collar on her, snapping it off his belt. She wasn't fighting him anymore but asking him to stop, to leave her alone. He looked at her now, taking in her features. She was so familiar to him like a dream. They had been in a crumbling city, bombs going off. The stars above them. A woman stuck in winter. Pain. What did it all mean? It hurt his head, trying to connect it all together.

 _Only you can make all this change in me_

 _For it's true, you are my destiny_

 _When you hold my hand_

 _I understand the magic that you do_

 _You're my dream come true_

 _My one and only you_

He crushed the radio under his boot, in it's death the last line distorting. She was dragged to her feet. Her eyes pierced his. "You can't be my James."

He ignored her as she continued, she was in her own world again and yet seemed to be present with him as well. She was passing out now, her voice feeble. "You are, aren't you? " Grabbing her by her broken arm he flung her over his shoulder.

"It's Evie," she said, finally letting the darkness take her. The world had taken it's toll on her. He looked at her for a minute. The dog-tags' long chain allowed him to read the name on it as it swung from side to side, shining in the sun.

James Buchanan Barnes

"Who the hell is Evie?" He ignored the pain he felt in his chest as he dragged her limp body back to his handlers. His eyes wide in confusion.

* * *

This is the first scene I ever thought of for this story and I'm happy to have finally been able to write it. Next chapter's gonna return where chapter one left off. No more flashbacks for a while! Maybe it can stop being so damn sad. Please review if you can, I'd appreciate it. The song from this is Only You by The Platters.


	23. New World

She sat at the dimly lit bar, a beanie covering her head. It was quiet tonight and after the incident in the park a few days ago she was grateful for the silence. Her fingers wrapped around her necklace as she stared at it. Everything hurt right now. She couldn't help but ponder; is he still out there?

She laughed at herself. It was bell rang as someone walked in, she pushed the necklace under her shirt. The man sat next to her. She eyed the green eyed stranger as she swallowed down another shot. There were plenty of seats. All of them but hers, actually. She raised her eyebrow in skepticism. He had high cheekbones and large bags under his eyes. He was very pretty.

She took one more shot before stopping. It was getting to her, she had been there for hours.

Maybe he was already drunk, he was in a suit in a shitty bar in Brooklyn. Typically late at night you don't want people to think you have money in an area that's known for late night muggings. She could swear the scarf was made of silk too. What a fat-head.

"I don't think mortals use that word anymore," he told her. Her eyebrows knitted together,

"Oh, did I say that out loud? Must be the booze." She tried getting up but he grabbed her arm. "Mortals?"

"You know you're not one of them," he watched her face. "Have you never come to that conclusion?" He was a smug bastard for sure.

"Sir, you must be very, very drunk. Maybe you should get a taxi."

"You're very spry for a 320 year old woman," he replied," please sit down, we have much to discuss." He was strong as he halfway pushed her back onto the stool, her necklace slipping back out of her top. Her eyes were wide.

"How did you-"

"I have my ways. You're not the only one of your kind."

"I have been called a god before," she said sarcastically. He didn't look pleased, his features growing darker.

"Well, you're not." She feigned hurt by placing her hands over her heart. "Gods don't feel guilt over ants who get crushed." He ran his long fingers down the dog tags on her neck. Her eyes were starting to glow, the hazel slowly becoming white. She quickly slipped on a pair of sunglasses.

He gave her a cocky smirk, seeing how easy it was to get under her skin. All it took was one little ant. "That looks very suspicious."

"Get out of my way," she hissed as she pushed past him. "Go home, you stupid little man."

Her hands pushed into her pockets as she rushed out of the bar and speed-walked home. She turned the corner into an alley, she'd be home in less than two minutes.

"Aren't you tired of being alone!" He shouted as he followed her. "Everything, Everyone you've ever loved has died!" She snapped back at him, looking into his green eyes. Something wasn't right about them, they swirled blue. Nothing as right about this man. "Something is coming! Greater than anything this world has ever seen."

He strode up to her as she jumped onto the fence, trying to scale it before he could reach her.

This man was faster than her, stronger than her. His hand reached out for her hoodie and he yanked her down, nearly tearing the fence from its hinges.

"What are you?" She tried to get away, her hands on his chest. He was like a wall of steel, he just wouldn't budge.

"I am Loki and I have come looking to make this world better." He leaned down to her ear, the airs on the back of her neck stood straight up. His slicked hair, tickled her cheek. "To make this the safe world you've dreamed of."

She scoffed at him. "And how do you know what I dream?" He smiled, she was playing his game.

"Why don't we discuss last night's?" He asked, placing his hands on her shoulders. She looked horrified. Loki had full power over her as he spoke. "A man following you through the jungle, in all black with a metal arm. You don't know who he is or if it's real. Then there's always the one before that with the machines and the collar."

"What do you want?" She became stone too, her face showing no change now. Her eyes though were windows to the pain she felt. The fear.

"What you want," he grasped at her hands, holding them in a vice grip. His face was only inches from hers as he spoke now. "I want a world where no one has to feel what you've felt. The loss of lovers. Of family. There is no crueler fate than that."

"Those are heavy words." He laughed, slowly backing away from her.

"I'll indulge you for now." He paused. "I'm dreadfully sorry but what should I call you? You've gone by many names." He could fake some manners.

"Genevieve Jones."

"You've added a last name. How quaint," he mocked as a small green flame glowed in his hand. "Come here." She hesitantly walked over, her hands hovering over it. It burned her finger and she pulled her hands to her chest, looking up at him.

"How'd you do that?"

"Magic. Like the magic you use." She laughed.

"That doesn't exist. This is some kind of trick, isn't it Loki?"

"Do you consider your shields a trick? What I do is no different from what you do. I just know what I'm doing." Her brow furrowed at his remark.

"So you've been watching me?" He ignored her, moving his hand out towards her.

"You can hold it, control it. If you want. Just place your hands on top of mine." She did it, staring up at him in amazement. His hands were cold, she wanted to pull away.

"It has a heartbeat. Almost." She was completely entranced as she pulled it away from him.

"Think of it as mankind. Without a good amount of control and care it'll fade, Genevieve." Everything was working so well, she was eating out of his hands. "I have some business to attend to but I will be back for you. I can show you everything. Teach you."

"Thoughts like that can be dangerous," she told him as he walked away. His grin grew wider.

"Smart woman. Nothing slips past you. We can discuss the vision we have for this world when I return." Just like that he strode away, she leaned against the fence holding onto it for support as the flame died out.


	24. The Scepter

She sat on her bed, reading and fiddling with her necklace. No matter what she did she just couldn't focus. Angrily she tossed the book to the floor, knocking over a tower of them. There were so many questions about the man from before.

Loki.

It had been a week since their confrontation at the bar. She felt vulnerable now, no one had ever matched her in strength. Now she had found someone who was stronger than her. She plopped onto the pillows and stared the the ceiling.

"What would you do?" She asked, twirling the chain around her fingers. The hurt she felt had dwindled slightly but this was a weight around her. It never was going to leave and she knew that now. Wearing his tags gave her no comfort but reminded her of what she had lost.

"I imagine he would try not to die," Loki muttered under his breath from the fire escape, shocking her back into reality. She jumped, trying to catch her breath. He smiled as she walked over to it and opened the window.

"Um. Maybe next time you could use the door and not be a complete ass?" She asked as he climbed in, now in some kind of armor. He was already pushing her buttons. She eyed in appearance, taking the in the green and gold helmet almost had her laugh. "On second thought if you're going to dress like that the windows fine."

He looked even more exhausted than he did before, his skin was a sickly tone and his lips were cracking. "You need sleep and medical attention, Loki."

"I'll be fine," he told her, rubbing his hands together," now, you have much to practice." She bit the inside of her mouth as he levitated one of her books. "This is simple. Even you should be able to do this."

She did, her eyes glowing as a book began to float in a small bubble. It popped in front of him, the book landing at his feet. "You need to stop focusing your power from your eyes. Use your hands. It's much more inconspicuous."

"This coming from the man in armor? You have seen you have antlers right?" She sat on the edge of her bed, chuckling. He sighed.

"You're not very old but you're old enough to be able to use your magic properly. I can't have you by my side if you're weak." She pursed her lips.

"What do you mean by 'by my side'? " He began pacing, waving his hands around as he spoke.

"The humans will not fear you. We can't usher in change with you this way."

"That's good then. I don't want to be feared." He stopped as he look into her eyes. She was completely serious. "People would eventually stop caring and fight back. It's what humans do."

"Then we break their spirit." She shook her head in displeasure, running a hand through her hair.

"No. That's what makes them the way they are!" She snapped back, clearly angry. "You don't understand that's whats driven us!" She was in his face now, on her toes trying to intimidate him. "I won't help you."

"Genevieve, I can't bring a new world from the one that's here. The people will listen to me as their king," he spoke calmly. "I've watched you everyday since you fell to this realm. I know the pain you've felt at the hands of these people and yet you defend them. You are not one of them and never will be." He hissed that last line. "You might have loved some of them. Fought for them but they have given you nothing back!"

"Stay away from me you're insane!" She pushed him. His eyes widened momentarily before hiding his surprise. There was more strength in her than he had realized. "I don't want to help you!"

He smiled and grabbed her hand, keeping her still. "You don't understand, do you? How powerless you are right now. I am stronger than you in every conceivable way." He was lying but she couldn't tell that. She could feel his anger growing from his chest as she tried to wiggle from his grasp, her hand other hand on his wrist. "You're just like him. These foolish people have made you weak!"

She was on the floor now, trying to scurry away. There were combat knives hidden by her bed, she just needed to get them. Her hand raised in front of her as she hit him with a force field, knocking him onto the ground. He was laughing now, holding his stomach.

"You're full of surprises. Such a feisty little woman. How refreshing," he chuckled as he got up, seeing her holding the knife and putting another one behind her, under the waistband of her jeans.

She was already on the offensive now, lunging at him. He dodged each of her swings easily. Loki went to stop the knife as it jutted out towards him but in a split second she flung it into the air, grabbing it with her other hand. He didn't realize what she had done until he felt the knife in between where his shoulder attached to his torso. She had slipped it through the braiding of his armor.

He grabbed her foot as she tried to kick the knife in an attempt to dislocate his shoulder. She used her hands and pushed off the ground, using the momentum to kick his side. He staggered back, holding his arm.

"You've proven yourself remarkably, Genevieve." She watched him as he spoke, reaching for the other knife.

"For what?"

"I'm sure the Sergeant would be proud," that was the final push she needed. She ran at him, her eyes glowing with anger. Such a soft spot.

He easily grabbed her and flung her under him, placing his knee on her chest. "Look at how weak you are. Worthless little soldier." He spat. "When my armies come I'll be back for you. You will be the first to kneel when this world becomes mine."

"You'll have to kill me first," she told him.

"What would be the fun in that? I want you to suffer." He leaned in closer to her with a scepter in his hand.

"I want you to suffer just like he has," she could feel the chill down her spine as he ran the pointed edge of it down her neck, leaving a small wound. She needed to escape him. She needed to warn Steve. But everything became hazy as the gem in his scepter began to glow, her eyes becoming tinged with crystal.


	25. The Tesseract

"Doctor, it's spiking again." Selvig ran over to the computer, typing furiously. This was his nightmare. He didn't need this now. **  
**"No one's come or gone. It's oven is clean. No contacts, no I.M.'s. If there was any tampering, sir, it wasn't this end." Barton told him.  
"At this end?" Fury asked. It was supposed to be an easy day, just check the faculty and make sure everything was running smoothly. Of course today would be the day there would be a problem.  
"Yeah, the cube is a doorway to the other end of space, right? The doors open from both sides." The man explained, itching for anything. It had been so boring here. He missed the action.

The laser in the room shot out a beam creating a window on the platform. They could see the stars through it before it exploded into blue mist with a man and a woman standing at the base of the platform. They were breathing heavily, the journey had tired them out. The man rose first, a spear clenched in his hand.

"Sir, please put down the spear!" The director exclaimed. The man shot out taking the agents with his scepter, the woman behind him conjured walls flinging them back. Knives and energy flew around the room, hitting the equipment. Barton tried to pull out his gun but the woman lunged after him and kicked it out of his hand, knocking him to the ground.

The man is already walking towards them, his spear at Barton's chest.

"You have heart," he says with his eyebrow raised slightly. She watches as his eyes change. Like hers did. She doesn't feel right now. None of this seems right as she hands him his gun back and he puts it in the holster at his thigh. They watch as Fury gets up and goes for the cube, now housing it in a suitcase.

"Please don't. I still need that." Fury turned slightly to face them.

"This doesn't have to get any messier."

" Of course it does. I've come too far for anything else. I am Loki of Asgard, and I am burdened with glorious purpose." Selvig turned to the man, his eyes excited but shocked. Fury stared at the woman, wanting answers.

"Loki? Brother of Thor?"

"We have no quarrel with your people."

"An ant has no quarrel with a boot." She could see the curiosity in the director's eyes.

"Are you planning on stepping on us?"

"I come with glad tidings, of a world made free."

"Free from what?" Loki's smiling at him, mischief in his eyes.

"Freedom. Freedom is life's great lie. Once you accept that, in your heart…" Loki placed the staff at his heart. She cocks her head slightly at them. The scientists eyes become black for a moment before they turn blue. Her hand rubs her temples, her head hurts. It's like something's hitting the front of her skull. Over and Over again. "You will know peace."

Fury couldn't help but scoff at the remark.

"Yeah, you say peace, I kind of think you mean the other thing." The tension in the room was building from the Tesseract. The power was pushing the ceiling; it was glowing, expanding and they all could feel it.

"Sir, Director Fury is stalling. This place is about to blow. Drop a hundred feet of rock on us. He means to bury us." Barton said, looking at the ceiling and pointing as he walked over to Loki's side.

"Like the Pharaohs of Odin." She stared at the man. If only I could, the thought trailing off.

"He's right. The portal is collapsing in on itself." Selvig told them as he looked at a computer." You got maybe two minutes before this goes critical." The redheaded woman stood in front of Loki, like a shield.

"Well then…" Loki said, grabbing the woman's hand and looking over at Barton. He shot Furry, who then shot her before he fell to the ground. He grabbed the woman from around the waist, dragging her beside him. She had made no effort to defend herself, blood spilling from her wound. Her eyes lost the blue tone as they went to the parking lot. Barton pointed to the cars, signaling the men to take them.

"Where am I?" She muttered as Loki placed her under him, both of them sitting in the back of a truck. Her eyes were wide with fear.

The agent walking around them noticed it. "Who are they?"

Clint turned to her. "They didn't tell me."

"You did something you shouldn't have," he told her as she placed her hand over the bullet wound, pulling it out. He held her arm in place. "Heal. Your punishment will come later."

Bullets started firing as they drove off. She tried punching him but he hit her back with his scepter, cutting her across her face. He then used it to ward off the cars in pursuit of them, firing off blasts of energy. It blew off their tires and created sparks in it's wake.

Her head shot up when she heard an explosion, everything around them began to crumble

"You can't do this. I won't let you," she snapped at him, feeling the blood as she lifted her fingers to her face. The tunnel was collapsing around them now and the woman in the jeep was cutting it close to being a part of the rubble. Had she caused this? She couldn't remember. He grabbed her arms, warning her.

"Genevieve…" She spat in his face and put her hands out, making a wall above the woman's car. The agent could see it cracking as more weight mounted on it. It only had to last a little longer. Loki was grabbing her, his hand around her throat. Her eyes began flickering, she grabbed his hand with hers as she tried to keep the wall up. He could hear her gasping under his grip, her face getting pale. The shield fell as rocks tumbled onto the agent's jeep but before she closed her eyes, she saw that the woman was still alive. A small smile looked up at Loki. She finally passed out as they drove through the gates, her head rolled onto his chest.


	26. Back in Germany

She could see stars clouding her vision as she felt her body hit the floor. The cement was covered in specks of blood. Her eyes snapped up at Loki. It had been hours of being his personal punching bag.

"For an Asgardian you're rather weak." He said as she staggered back up, throwing a punch at his face.

"Bastard!" He easily deflected it, grabbing his scepter and placing it against her heart. He would be leaving for Germany soon, he didn't have time for the anymore.

"Sir?" She asked, her eyes changing color again. He placed his hand on her shoulder.

"That's much better. Heal yourself we have plans tonight."

The pressure was on now that the Other and Thanos were waiting for a flawless victory. He couldn't disappoint his neck was on the line. His eyes lingered on her form as she obeyed, sitting on the floor and healing each mark. One by one. She sat there in a torn tank top and jeans, that damn necklace hanging around her neck. He was curious about her affinity with humans but as she looked up at him with blue eyes he knew none of it would be honest. Loki left her and went to Hawkeye and the scientist to discuss their next move. He needed Selvig to make the tesseract create a stable portal. How he could do it with the iridium.

Within a few hours they were in Germany, he held her hand as they traveled. She was breaking his control, she had since the beginning. He needed to keep his eyes on her. They would be going through a gala in Stuttgart so he had had her change in a gown so they wouldn't look out of place. Hawkeye needed him to use a retinal scanner on one of the guests without it everything he had strived for would mean nothing.

He couldn't help but stare at her as she strode down the staircase in a gold gown. She looked like she belonged in Asgard, it draped over her shoulders and hugged her waist. Her long curly hair almost fell to the middle of her thighs and it bounced as she walked. She could've easily been a goddess, her features were striking. Even her freckles which he had originally thought were an eyesore. Loki couldn't help but grimace when he saw those tags tucked into her bust. He ignored it, the anger swelling in his chest.

"You look ravishing," he told her, taking her arm. She nodded in acknowledgement as they walked down. Her eyes disturbed him. He didn't know why though, he was the one who did this to her. She was nothing more than a puppet for him to control. "What? Nothing for me, your future King?" He teased arrogantly.

"Oh you look wonderful," she said with a small smile. He shook his head, maybe once the battle was over he would remove the gem's influence over her. He preferred the fiery woman he had fought with earlier and the woman in the apartment who went after him with knives.

He told her of the plan as they walked down the stairs, he could see his target. Almost as if he was invisible he strode up to the man and flipped him onto one of the statues. The entire crowd stared on horrified while Genevieve didn't know how to feel. She felt numb. Like she was floating in a sea of ice, slowly slipping under. She could feel the tags around her neck, they were heavy to her.

The device sawed the man's eyeball and Loki pushed the man's body away as he called her over, smiling like a wolf who had just devoured its prey whole. She followed him, he transformed into his armor and blasted anything that opposed him. The police didn't even have a chance as their cars flipped and exploded.

That demented smile danced across his face again as he began to scream at the crowd. "Kneel!" No one listened trying to escape. More Lokis appeared trapping the people in the square. Every nerve of her body screamed out in protest. How could she just stand there like a zombie?

"I said 'kneel'!" The entire crowd was on their knees in an instant. He laughed as he walked through them with her trailing behind him, he began to speak again. "Is not this simpler? Is this not your natural state? It's the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel."

A man rose before them, he was old and looked at her with a hopeless gaze. He seemed familiar. "Not to men like you."

"There are no men like me."

"There are always men like you," he pointed to Genevieve. "She taught me that."

Loki grinned. "Look to your elder people. Let him be an example."

She watched as he raised his staff at the man, her eyes darting back from the two of them. Loki and the man who refused to sit down. Something came to her, the house in London. A little boy with a crush. _Daniel._

The shot never hit the man as she stood in front of him, her arm was black where the shot hit. Something landed behind her, she turned to see Captain America there. Loki fell backwards as his shield hit him.

"You know, the last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing."

"Miss Genevieve," the old man tapped her shoulder, "I'm glad to see you now." She smiled back at him.

"You better get out of here Danny," she patted his arm. "It's not looking good." The older man ran off thanking her as she turned to the task at hand.  
Loki started getting up, "the soldier."

"A man out of time." Genevieve walked with Rodgers, healing her arm. Her eyes already glowing.

"I'm not the one out of time," the blonde said, looking at the quinjet above them. Everything whipped around them from the force of its propellers. A woman's voice spoke from the jet, threatening Loki. He shot at it but the pilot moved out of the way. Steve jumped on the offensive. Genevieve sent a forcefield out at Loki, making him stagger.

"You don't go after my kids," she snapped. Steve's shield hit him in his confusion. They went after him, Loki flung him to the ground but she ran behind the god and punched him, leaving marks on his face. He had a look of disbelief as Rodgers got back up, throwing his shield at him.

Loki flung it down with his staff as Steve took the opportunity to start hitting him, using all of his boxing moves. She smiled joining in. James had taught him those.

Energy from the spear shot out at her, forcing her to the ground. When she pushed herself up Steve was on the ground. "Kneel."

"Not today!" He shouted at him as he jumped back. The victory was short lived as Loki grabbed his leg and flipped him over. She made a force field, keeping him away from Steve as music started playing.

A man in an iron suit flew through the air and landed in front of them, firing weapons from it at Loki. "Make your move, Reindeer Games." He was on the ground, his hands up and his armor dematerialized. Steve helped her up. "Good move."

"Mr. Stark." She eyed him with disgust.

"Captain and," his head turned, looking at her. "Other redhead."


	27. We Could Fly

She sat in the quinjet across from Loki, both of them staring at each other as Rogers and Stark spoke in the cockpit. The dress she wore was torn and dirty as she rested against the seat in handcuffs.

"Can you stop staring?" She asked, looking at the window above them. Rogers turned to her, looking at her tags.

"Have you ever been to Germany before?" The captain asked, she smiled sadly at him.

"It's Evelyn, Steve." He looked surprised, his brows furrowing. "Oh and I'm sorry about the park. I wasn't expecting-"

Lighting struck dangerously close. They looked at Loki who was watching intently through the windows.

"It's actually Genevieve by the way," she murmured to him as he directed his attention to the god.

"What's the matter? Scared of a little lightning?"

"I'm not overly fond of what follows." He looked scared, she wasn't going to lie and say she wasn't enjoying it.

"Any idea what he's going on about?" He asked her, she shook his head.

"Asshole attacked me at a bar and in my apartment. You think I know anything?" It struck again but this time a man appeared at the end of the jet's ramp. He has huge and only seemed to get larger as he flew up to Loki and grabbed him by the throat before flying off into the clouds.

She watched, dumbstruck as Stark and Rogers spoke.

"Stark, We need a plan of attack!" Rodgers told him as he rocketed off the ramp.

"I have a plan. Attack." He said, turning to Steve but Genevieve took the words out of his mouth

"That's a really stupid plan." Within an instant he had grabbed a parachute. He bantered with the woman who was driving before jumping after Stark and Loki's captor.

"You know," she started off, looking at the woman," I could help them."

She laughed it off, "not a chance." Genevieve shrugged.

"Worth a shot. Can I break out of these handcuffs then? I won't go anywhere."

"Can you?" A screw flew from the other side of the room as she rubbed her wrists, the metal falling off. The other one followed and she stretched out her arms.

"That's much better," she muttered, closing her eyes.

"You wanna tell me about why you're here. Why Loki?" A laugh escaped her as she sat up.

"Name first," the woman gave her a name and she continued explaining everything she could. Some parts of the war, Loki's bar confrontation and their apartment brawl.

Natasha turned to her, swiveling in the chair. "How would you feel about helping us?"

"If it means I can question Loki at the end of all of this, you've got a deal." The way he had worded things at the apartment had her questioning some of what she believed was fact.

"I wouldn't let him worm his way into your brain," Natasha said, looking at her as she closed her eyes in thought.

"Pft. He already has with that damn stick."She ran a hand through her hair, smiling as she went to a happier place for a moment.

They had curled up in the backyard of the house as a few of the children played. It was spring, flowers grew and butterflies flew through the air. James held her to his chest, feeling every breath. Her heart still beating like a hummingbird's.

She wore a white tank top and a long flowy blue skirt. He had tried to make her wear shoes but she refused, wanting to curl her toes in the glass. Her hair looked like pure fire in the sun's rays, he could see every color from every strand.

"Are you sure that you won't get in trouble?" She asked him, he made a face and shook his head. His brows knitted together and his lips pursed. This must have been the 10th time today. She wrapped her fingers around his tags and pulled him down for a kiss.

"Eww," Daniel said, stopping mid run with a bubble wand in his hand. A few girls were popping them behind him. Aliza sat under a cherry tree that was flowering, looking at bugs.

"You'll like it one day," James told them with a sweet smile.

"But cootes…"

"Hey, that's what I thought too, little man." He held Evie around her waist as he kissed her cheek. "But look nothing happens." He ran his hand through his hair and raised them above his head. Evie turned around, looking at him.

"Wait, James!" She shrieked feigning shock as she pointed to an invisible mark on his face. "Do you see it, Danny?"

"See what?"

"You're not helping," he whispered, seeing the children's eyes widened. Aliza walked over to them with a stick.

"I see it," the little girl said. Evie bit her lip, trying to hold back her laughter. She slapped her knee.

"Don't bite your lip, you know what that does to me," he told her. She jumped up and walked to the children. He raised an eyebrow as they huddled into a circle, she was holding their hands as they spoke.

"He does have cootes!" Daniel exclaimed. She shushed him, raising a finger to her lips.

"He'll hear you."

"Yeah, I can hear ya'll crystal clear. Don't bother," he told them, standing up.

"What're we gonna do?" Aliza whispered.

'We've got to climb the tree," Evie said.

"Don't listen to her! She's a bad influence." James retorted, crossing his arms against his chest.

"You have cootes!" Danny pointed at him and ran, dragging her with him. She held Aliza on her hip as they all ran laughing. James moved his hair out of his face, running after them. He tried to pry them off the tree but he could only stare at them as they sat on a high branch. Some of the girls ran past him and followed suit, all of the bubbles gone.

Danny looked up at her. "I like you. I like you a lot, Miss Genevieve." Aliza gave him a disgusted look, swatting at him with her tiny hands.

The little girls looked over from their branch, swaying their feet as they pulled flowers off the tree. A little girl with a bob gave Evie a small white crown made of the flowers. "Oh thank you. It's lovely."

'What're you ladies doing? You don't need all those to make crowns." He told them.

"Making a rope, Mr. Barnes." One of them replied, flinging her blonde hair towards him. Her expression told him that his question was very stupid to her.

"Okay, missy," he said with an attitude. Genevieve giggled as she watched him. Everything seemed possible with him.

"Come up here with us," she patted an empty space on the branch.

"If I get up there, how are you planning to get down?"

One of the children screamed, "Fly!"

"Maybe we shouldn't read _Peter and Wendy_ again…." He looked at Evie who shook her head in agreement. James stood underneath her as she pushed herself off the branch and jumped into his waiting arms. They kissed briefly before helping the children down.

She snapped out of her daydream as Natasha spoke and the quinjet landed, Loki was being brought on board again with a large grin on his face. She held the tags in her hand as the agent explained their arrangement with the large man from before, Thor, and Rogers. They agreed on it as the jet took off again.


	28. Guilt

She sat in the laboratory with Tony and Banner. While everyone had spoken she had been interrogated by Jasper Sitwell and now they had shoved her here. She wanted to talk to Steve to try and clear up some things.

It wasn't the easiest to keep up with them. She had read enough to have a basic understanding but she was no expert.

"So what's your specialty, Cinderella?" Stark asked her as she touched between screens. She rolled her eyes and continued reading the screen. Damn that stupid dress, at least SHIELD had let her change into jeans and a shirt.

"I'm a doctor," she muttered, jotting something on a notepad. He walked around with a small electric prod and zapped her before doing it to Banner.

"Ow!"

"Really, she didn't even flinch," Tony said with a laugh.

"Are you nuts?" Steve snapped as he walked into the room, going to Tony. She worked with Banner as they bantered, two egos colliding. They were polar opposites.

"Why did Fury call us and why now? Why not before? What isn't he telling us? I can't do the equation unless I have all the variables." She became interested, paying attention to bits and pieces.

He spoke about Fury's long career as a spy and even she found herself agreeing with Tony. She thought he was scum after all the weapons of his she had seen injuring the innocent. A part of her felt revolted by herself. They spoke of Loki's words and things made sense. To an extent. **  
**"It's powered by Stark Reactors, self-sustaining energy source. That building will run itself for what, a year?" Banner asked him, putting his pen down and speaking up more. **  
**"That's just the prototype. I'm kind of the only name in clean energy right now." Stark boosted.

"Do you ever not congratulate yourself?" Genevieve asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Banner laughed slightly.  
"So, why didn't SHIELD bring him in on the Tesseract project? I mean, what are they doing in the energy business in the first place?" Banner said, point to Tony. He beamed at the compliment as he pressed the screens. **  
**"I should probably look into that once my decryption programmer finishes breaking into all of SHIELD's secure files."

Steve looked like he was about to lose it.  
"I'm sorry, did you say..?" **  
**"Jarvis has been running it since I hit the bridge. In a few hours we'll know every dirty secret SHIELD has ever tried to hide." He turned to everyone with a bag of blueberries in his hand.

"Yet you're confused about why they didn't want you around?" She mentally checked off a point for Steve. **  
**"An intelligence organization that fears intelligence? Historically, not possible." Fuck, another point to Tony. **  
**"I think Loki's trying to wind us up. This is a man who means to start a war, and if don't stay focused, he'll succeed. We have orders, we should follow them."  
She laughed, it had a darkness to it. "I wouldn't live by that with your track record."

"But out," Steve retorted.

"She's not wrong," Stark said," and anyway, Cap, following is really not my style."

"And you're all about style, aren't you?" Steve smiled at him sarcastically.

"Of the people in this room, which one is; A. wearing a spangly outfit, and B. not of use?" Banner spoke, bringing the room down from it's boiling point. **  
**"Steve, tell me none of this smells a little funky to you?" Steve shook him off. He wasn't trained to disobey.

"Just find the cube," he said as he left. Genevieve followed him. "Can I help you?" She sighed.

"I'll be the first to say Stark's an ass but he isn't wrong about this," she started off. "Last time I didn't follow my gut, something bad happened to someone I loved and I'm repeating it again. The possibility of SHIELD hiding information is eating away at you, isn't it? I certainly feel that way."

He looked at her with sadness in his eyes. "You were Bucky's Evie?"

She smiled, mirroring his sadness. "Still am." She stopped, holding the necklace. He stayed there, she leaned against the wall. Her hands on his tags again. "I found these in the snow where he might've fell, I looked for his body for hours."

"Did you find anything besides those?" She looked away and rubbed her face before becoming a blank face

"An arm." He looked at her, she was holding everything back. She seemed like she had finished grieving but the horrors still ran through her head. "If I were you I would've just stayed in ice. Seeing everyone ripped away when you can't do anything is dreadful. After James died I ran right into Vietnam and I can't remember anything from that point until the 80's."

"He told me you were a medic."

"It's true enough," she said with a laugh. "He always knew what to say, sadly, I didn't pick that up from him." Steve smiled and put an arm around her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't save him from falling," he said, pulling her into a hug. She could feel small tears hitting her hair. "Does the guilt ever go away?" She hugged him back, placing her chin on his shoulder.

"I can't say it does, Steve. It gets better though. Some days I'm okay, other days I'm blaming myself for everything I couldn't stop. It was almost seventy years ago" She rubbed his back, trying to comfort him. No one knew how he felt better than her. "I'm sorry for everything I've done too. When I saw you in the park it brought everything back to me. I wanted to see him walking next to you."

They broke apart. He smiled down at her as they began walking towards the hull of the ship. "As much as I want to ask more questions we have more important things to do."

"And what would that be?" She asked, following him

"There's a door I can't open but with you I might be able too."

"Locked doors tend to hide secrets, Steve. Are you sure you want to know them?"

"I can't blindly do as they tell me," he stated. They found the door and heaved it open.

"This is just storage," she looked over the metal crates as he jumped onto higher railing. They kept moving and opening random boxes until all the air escaped her lungs at what she had found.

"Steve!" She called, a hand over her mouth in horror. He was over to her in an instant. "I haven't seen these since the war. These should've been destroyed."

"Fury has some explaining to do," he looked at the contents of the crate, grabbing a few, and walked away as they headed back to the lab.


	29. Time Bomb

Quick shout out to the Guest that reviewed. Thank you! Any reviews I get mean a lot to me!

* * *

"What is PHASE 2?"  
Steve, dropped the weapons he had been carrying. Genevieve followed him, both of them were filling with rage. Nick didn't seem happy about their discovery.

"PHASE 2 is when SHIELD uses the cube to make weapons." Steve said, waiting for Nick's response. He turned to Tony for a moment. "Sorry, the computer was moving a little slow."  
"Rogers, we gathered everything related to the Tesseract. This does not mean that we're…" Nick tried to explain, Stark turned to the monitor.  
"I'm sorry, Nick." He said, pointing to the weapon plans. "What were you lying?"

"You've got to joking," Genevieve muttered, putting her face in her hands. Disappointment spreading throughout her body.

"I was wrong, director. The world hasn't changed a bit." The door opened as Thor and Natasha walk into the lab. Banner looked like he was about to toss Natasha off the helicarrier.

"Did you know about this?"  
"You wanna think about removing yourself from this environment, doctor?" She asked.  
"I was in Calcutta, I was pretty well removed."  
"Loki's manipulating you."

"Really?" Genevieve snapped," you're the people who didn't tell us about this. Loki didn't put these here."  
"And you've been doing what exactly?" Banner asked Natasha.  
"You didn't come here because I bat my eyelashes at you."  
"Yes, and I'm not leaving because suddenly you get a little twitchy. I'd like to know why SHIELD is using the Tesseract to build weapons of mass destruction."

"Because of them." Nick pointed to Thor and then Genevieve  
"Me?'

"Come again?" Her voice jumped an octave as she crossed her arms over her chest. She was immediately defensive.  
"Last year earth had a visitor from another planet who had a grudge match that leveled a small town. We learned that not only are we not alone, but we are hopelessly, hilariously, outgunned." He laughed before turning to her.

"Then there's you. You've been on this planet for over three hundred years."

"How did-"

"When Arnim Zola was arrested in 1945 he told us everything about you. Your healing factor, how in your HYDRA days," he smiled, seeing how surprised she was. "You toppled nations within a matter of hours."

"Wait you were HYDRA?" Steve asked, grabbing her shoulder.

"It was a very long time ago," she said putting her hands up. "I've spent more than one lifetime trying to fix my wrongs."

"My people want nothing but peace with your planet." Thor said.

"But you're not the only people out there, are you? And, you're not the only threat. The world's filling up with people who can't be matched, they can't be controlled."  
"Like you controlled the cube?" Steve retorted, everyone in the room was steaming. Everything was going to blow sooner rather than later.  
"You're work with the Tesseract is what drew Loki to it, and his allies. It is the signal to all the realms that the earth is ready for a higher form of war." Thor strutted up to Nick, everyone was circling each other now.  
"A higher form?" Steve said walking over to them.  
"You forced our hand. We had to come up with something." Genevieve shook her head, pinching the skin in between her brows.

"This isn't the way to go about it!"

"Nuclear deterrent. `Cause that always calms everything right down." Nick snapped back, reminding Stark how he achieved his money.  
"I'm sure if he still made weapons, Stark would be neck deep-" Steve and Tony began

"Wait! Wait! Hold on!"

"How is this now about me?"

"I'm sorry, isn't everything?"

Genevieve jumped in between them. "This isn't the time-" Steve pushed her to the side, her back hitting one of the tables by Thor. He placed his hand on her shoulder, helping her up before joining.  
"I thought humans were more evolved than this."  
"Excuse me, did WE come to YOUR planet and blow stuff up?" Nick exclaimed.  
"Did you always give your champions such mistrust?" Natasha and Banner jumped into it now. Her hazel eyes jumped between everyone, not knowing what to do. She ran to the computers while everyone screamed at each other. This was not the right damn time to be flipping on each other.

" You people are so petty... and tiny." She tried to ignore them as they fought, typing furiously into the computer.  
" Agent Romanoff, would you escort back to his…"  
"Where? You rented my room."  
"In case you needed to kill me, but you can't! I know! I tried!" Her head snapped at him, her fingers laying on the keys as he spoke.  
"I got low. I didn't see an end, so I put a bullet in my mouth and the other guy spit it out! So I moved on. I focused on helping other people." She knew how that felt. "I was good, until you dragged me back into this freak show and put everyone here at risk!"  
"You wanna know my secret, Agent Romanoff? You wanna know how I stay calm?" Genevieve had a hand outstretched towards them as she saw them reaching for their guns, the other pointed a Banner. Eyes already turning silver.  
"Doctor Banner... put down the scepter." Steve said. The computer she was at beeped and everyone turned to her.  
"Got it," Tony turned to her screen. Banner put down the scepter, taking a breath as he walked over to the computer.  
"Sorry, kids. You don't get to see my little party trick after all."

"Located the Tesseract?" Thor asked  
"I can get there faster." Tony said, walking away.  
"Look, all of us…" She forgot they existed as her and Banner looked at the scan.

"That can't be right…." She muttered, typing again.

"Oh, my God!" Everyone was flung around the lab as an explosion hit one of the engines. She laid on the lower floor with Banner and Natasha, she couldn't see anyone else.

"I'm okay. We're all okay, right?" Natasha asked. Genevieve turned to Banner who was slamming his fist against the grate.

"I wouldn't be so sure…"

" Doctor... Bruce, you gotta fight it. This is just what Loki wants. We're gonna be okay. Listen to me." Natasha said, trying to wiggle out of the rubble on top of her leg. Genevieve saw two engine workers coming and shooed them away.

"It's going to be alright," Genevieve spoke up, crawling towards him. "We just need to relax. Let me help you." Her eyes were glowing as she reached out to him but he swatted her away. Natasha tried to help.

"We're gonna be okay. Right? I swear on my life I will get you out of this, you will walk away, and never…"

"Your life!" He screamed as he began to change. Genevieve backed away as she heard his voice change. Banner was gone now.

"Bruce," Natasha pleaded as the other redhead tried again to get to him. He was changing now, ripping through his shirt. Natasha kicked the pipe off her leg and Genevieve walked up to him, he was twice his size now and his skin a mossy green. She tried to touch him.

He flung her away once he sensed her, she hit the wall and staggered back up. "Natasha, run!" She screamed as she put up a barrier. He easily broke it as she jumped up to the railing with the agent. They ran and jumped through, trying to avoid him until they hid behind a small cluster of them. "I'll distract him. Get out of here."

Genevieve ran up to Banner, making walls around him. He crushed one and lunged after her, she easily jumped over him and hovered above him, holding the grate above her. She flung herself onto a nearby ramp, running up it to escape him.

Natasha was talking to someone through her earpiece while Banner was trying to grab Genevieve's leg that was hanging off a pipe. He got disinterested and walked away. Genevieve sneakily began to look for Natasha. She could hear a scream and a bullet from the other side of the room. She booked it, hearing his stampede like footsteps. Before she could do anything Thor had jumped onto him, Natasha leaning against the wall where a giant HUlk-sized hole now stood.

"You okay?" Genevieve asked before darting to help Thor.

Only that didn't happen.

She stood watching them her mouth agape. They were like two hell hounds, just duking it out and destroying everything in their paths. When she found an opening she went on the offensive with the God.

Those openings were few and far apart. The most she could do was occasionally make a barrier to block Banner's punches. She jumped to the side, helping Thor up as a barrage of bullets went through a nearby window from a plane.

They covered each other as the Hulk jumped onto the plane. She looked wide eyed as he tore the plan into pieces, the pilot luckily escaped using his parachute. She turned to Thor.

"Uhhhh…"

"Your magic. Thank you for that," he said, looking at her. "You're Asgardian?"

"Apparently," she said still not knowing how to take anything in.

"I'm going after Loki," he said turning to the detention center. She followed.

"I'll help where I can," she grabbed an unconscious man's gun as they ran to Loki.


	30. Always

Thank you for the latest reviewer RougeReaper! I try to publish a new chapter once a day so you don't have to wait very long for updates! :D

* * *

"No!" Thor ran at Loki as he tried to escape the glass prison.

"Thor wait-" Genevieve screamed as Thor ran, stopping in the center. He turned to see Loki, holding her to him like a shield.

"Are you ever not going to fall for that?" Loki asked him. Thor in rage slammed his hammer onto the glass making the whole ship move slightly. The guard next to them backed away cautiously. She could hear Loki laugh as she tried to move back in fear, his body stopping her. He smiled at him as he walked, keeping her in front of him, to the control panel. "The humans think us immortal. Should we test that?"

The guard dropped to the floor and a man with a gun, that resembled a small cannon, walked over to them. "Move away, please." The gun began to glow orange. " You like this? We started working on the prototype after you sent the Destroyer. Even I don't know what it does. Do you wanna find out?"

He fired off a round and it hit Genevieve as the Loki behind her disappeared. She fell into the storage closet, the wall broken with a large hole in it.

Coulson grasped as Loki's scepter drove through his chest, the real Loki laughed as Thor screamed and the man fell against the wall, still holding his weapon.

He walked back to the control panel, much too pleased with himself. "Two birds with one stone." He said gesturing to the two bodies on the ground. Thor stared at him, praying he wouldn't press the last button as he opened the floor. Wind echoing through the room now.

Thor and Loki stared at each other, he was hopeful he wouldn't do it.

He was wrong, the cage fell into the sky in an instant.

"You're going to lose," Coulson said as Loki began to leave, heading for the broken closet. He turned with a grin.

"Am I?"

"It's in your nature." **  
**"Your heroes are scattered, your floating fortress falls from the sky...where is my disadvantage?" **  
**"You lack conviction." He coughed out. **  
**"I don't think I…" A shot was fired at him and he joined Genevieve's unconscious form. He grabbed her arm as he got up. She rubbed her face groggily as she got up before realizing who's hand held her forearm. He felt her kneeing his side, trying to put space between them.

"I could kill you right now. Do you not realize that?" He asked, pointing his scepter at her.

"Then do it," she spat. "Even with that stick you can't control me." Her eyes glowed as she put up a barrier, forcing him away. She turned to Coulson as she tried to make her escape.

"Sorry," he muttered as she crouched down to him, trying to heal him with one hand and kept a barrier up.

"I wouldn't bother," Loki laughed as he kicked down her barrier and grabbed her by the hair before she could even turn around. He dragged her behind him, she looked at the guard on the floor and grabbed his combat knife.

He turned around to her, she was being compliant now and not struggling as they left the room. She had already cut through half of the hair in his hands. "What are you doing?"

She smiled as she kicked him and sliced through the rest of her hair before running down the hallway. "Figured it was about time to cut it!" Her voice echoed through the halls as he stared at the strands on the floor. She pushed open a grate and climbed through a vent as he walked over to her.

"Running away won't help you," he said. "I can't tell you about him if you keep running from me. The whole reason you're still here is because of that."

"He's dead! You're a goddamn liar!" She snapped as she crawled.

"Perhaps but you weren't there and the Captain only saw his fall." She hung over him from a vent, she jumped on top of him, the scepter laid on the other side of the hallway now as she sat on his chest.

"Is he alive or not?" She half way growled it, her hand was at his face. The silver eyes showed nothing.

"Why should I tell you?" He snickered, she slapped him hard enough to leave a mark. He could feel the air around him lessening as a bubble wrapped around his head.

"Do you want to know what it feels like to feel the air pulled from your lungs," she asked in a snarl. He gasped and shoved her off of him but he still could feel the barrier around him.

She got up and walked over to him, her hands were balled up into fists. He could feel the rage coming off of her in waves, the hurt. He fell onto his knees as he tried to keep her at bay, the rematerialized scepter in his hands sliced at air.

"I like you on your knees," she laughed, he didn't know where this darkness was coming from. She released the barrier and crotched down to him.

"You're precious James is gone, Genevieve. Everyone you've ever loved is gone," he screamed now rising up, she stood as well. She needed to stand her ground. "The people you've saved fear you! Everything you've known about yourself was a lie!"

"I imagine you know how that feels," she said with a smile. He looked surprised.

"You're not mortal," he spat in her face.

"But I am Asgardian which is something you will never be," she was laughing now with her silver eyes, she wiped away her tears. "It's gotta sting Loki."

He smiled looking down at her. "I like this side of you. So malicious. You're no longer his little Evie."

"I haven't been in almost seventy years." She jumped up and kicked him into the wall. They exchanged blows. Magic swirled around the room in the form of daggers and shields. She gasped as he disappeared again.

She stood there alone in the hallways, the light flickering above her as she held the necklace in her hands. Tears fell. She would always be his.

Always.


	31. The Girl

Genevieve saw Tony and Steve walking down the hallway. Tony went off into a hallway as Steve walked up to her.

"We're heading out. Got a suit?"

"No but if you've got a mask I can work with that," she said with a laugh. He nodded and gestured for her to follow.

"Did Bucky know?"

"Know about what?" She asked, tilting her head to the side.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about," he said his voice growing louder. She stared at him, getting in front of him.

"Steve, I'm over three hundred years old as you can imagine there's a bunch of stuff you could be talking about." He scoffed. "What?"

"How did he deal with a HYDRA operative?"

"I haven't been with HYDRA since the 1800's, Steve. I think after two hundred years you can stop bringing it up." She started walking away. "I wouldn't insult someone who you want to help you."

"Do you think you've changed?" She stopped in her tracks.

"James knew everything and he never left. What do you think?" She snapped back. "Quite frankly none of our relationship is any of your business." She shooed him away as she stood on the ledge of a window. He tried to run after her and stop her but she was already walking through the air by the time he got to the ledge.

She used her barriers as stairs, hoping from one to the other until all he saw was clouds again. Her fiery red hair disappearing in pillowy whiteness. He didn't know what to do.

"Come back!"

It took time but eventually she hopped down to the city, hiding in an abandoned alleyway. She rubbed her temples as images came to her.

A man with long hair covering his face in an icy sleep. Electricity running through his body. A baby crying.

He was so familiar. Those eyes bore into her soul. She leaned against the wall. That couldn't be James.

These were more of Loki's lies. She couldn't bother herself with these thoughts. Not with the chitauri coming. She walked to her apartment and changed into an old jean jacket and combat boots, knives and guns hidden in the layers of her clothing. Quickly she pulled her hair into a tight ponytail and cut it to even out what she had previously sliced off during her last encounter with Loki.

It was a tad uneven as it stopped roughly at her breasts but it would do. After he was defeated she would need to change her look anyway.

"You'd look good as a blonde." Her head snapped back to see Loki standing there. She threw a sniper rifle over her shoulder. "I'm happy you and the soldier had a disagreement."

"I didn't know dictators made house calls." He walked over to her.

"I needed to gather my queen," she laughed and pulled out a knife, putting it to his neck. He smiled, the scepter in his hands disappearing.

"Something I'm missing?"

"I came here with a proposition." Her eyebrow arched and the knife touched his skin. "You help me and I'll help you become mortal."

"Can you help how full of shit you are?" She asked. He tsked her as her guard dropped, he grabbed her shoulders and rammed his knee into her stomach. She sat on her hands and knees gagging out spit before firing back at him. He easily grabbed her arm as she swung at him with another knife.

"Such language. Have you learned your lesson, Lady Genevieve?" He stared into her glowing eyes. She could hear the man screaming again, the mouthguard barely concealing it.

He had been the one in her dreams.

"Get out of my head!" She threw him with her powers and then fell to her knees, holding her head as more images came to her. Now there was a little girl with blue eyes and light freckles dusted across her face. She stared back at her in an empty gray room, her face mirrored James'; the cleft in her chin, those piercing steel blue eyes, the visible grimace on her face reminded her of when he would pout. She tilted her head, she had a buzzed hair but under the florescent lighting the red in it showed brightly.

He walked over to her, crouching down to her level.

He pushed the hair out of her face, seeing small tears running down her face. "You've committed such horrors. You didn't think you could ever have a normal life, did you?" He cupped her face, making her look at him. "I won't be dying for a very long time and neither will you. Why not join me? He'll never come back and you know that."

"And you'll never stop lying." She spat. He got up and turned away from her.

"Then what happens to the girl? What about everything in Vietnam?" He smiled. "All these little things you can't remember but I could help you."

"Who is she?" More bait dangled in front of her.

"You could ask her. I know where she is." She gazed into his eyes her mouth slightly agape before they pursed together, her hands laid against his chest. Slowly they moved to his face, her eyes closed briefly before snapping open and glowing.

He tried to move away from her grip but within seconds she had him on his knees in front of her. She went through his mind, looking for anything that could help her. A small voice reached out to her through the cold. There was something else there besides the little girl and her. A hulking figure surrounded by blue wisps.

 _Run._

Loki fell into a heap on the floor as she released her hold on him. She leaned against the wall gasping for air, quickly she grabbed a mask before darting off into the city. Sweat fell from her forehead as she walked through the crowds. She stared at Stark Tower and ran through a nearby building until she reached the top of it. Selvig stood at the top of the tower, fiddling with a large device.


	32. The Battle of New York, Part I

She watched as Stark came down onto the balcony, his suit being removed by magnetic rings around him. Stepping back slightly she took a head start and jumped over to the balcony. Loki was already inside as she followed Tony.

"I hope you have a plan," she muttered to him as she hide behind the bar.

"Please tell me you're going to appeal to my humanity." Loki quipped as he walked in with his scepter, completely relaxed.  
"Uh...actually, I'm planning to threaten you." He said as he poured himself a drink and grabbed another glass. **  
**"You should have left your armor on for that." The smiled across his face sickened her. **  
**"Yeah, it's seen a bit of mileage. You've got the blue stick of destiny." He gestured to his scepter and waved a glass."Would you like a drink?" **  
**"Stalling me won't change anything." **  
**"No, no, no! Threatening. No drink? You sure? I'm having one."

"The chitauri are coming, nothing will change that. What have I to fear?"  
"The Avengers." Loki looked at him in confusion. Not knowing what to say to that. **  
**It's what we call ourselves, sort of like a team. `EARTH'S MIGHTIEST HEROES' type of thing." **  
**"Yes, I've met them." She placed the mask on her face as he gave Tony that smug grin again. Tony returned it. **  
**"Yeah, takes us a while to get any traction, I'll give you that one." He started to strut over to Loki now but instead stood at the end of the bar. Genevieve crawled closer to him, trying to follow him. **  
**"But, let's do a head count here. Your brother, the demi-God; a super soldier,  
a living legend who kind of lives up to the legend; a living fossil who can do crazy shit with her mind; a man with breath-taking anger management issues; a couple of master assassins, and you, big fella, you've managed to piss off every single one of them." **  
**"That was the plan." **  
**"Not a great plan. When they come, and they will, they'll come for you." Tony grabbed to bracelets from under the table and put them on. **  
**"I have an army." Loki stated in a menacing voice.

"We have a Hulk." **  
**"I thought the beast had wandered off." **  
**"You're missing the point. There's no throne, there is no version of this, where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes and maybe it's too much for us, but it's all on you. Because if we can't protect the Earth, you can be damned well sure we'll avenge it." **  
**Loki slowly walked up to him, raising the scepter until it hovered over Tony' chest. "How will your friends have time for me,when they're so busy fighting you?" He tapped his chest, hearing a ping noise as the metal touched. His brows furrowed in confusion.

"This usually works." Tony raised his eyebrow and shrugged. **  
**"Well, performance issues. You know? Not entirely uncommon. One out of five-" Loki grabbed him by the throat, Genevieve popped her head out from behind the bar and Tony raised his hand down. The god flung him across the room.  
"Jarvis. Anytime now." He grabbed him, forcing the billionaire to look at him.

"You will all fall before me!" He hissed at him.

"Deploy!" He threw him out the window, glass falling everywhere as a pod shot out after him. Knocking the breath out of Loki as it almost hit him.  
She ran to the window.

"Stark!" She watched the pod lined up with the bracelets. Loki grabbed her by her hair.

"It's your turn," he whispered as he pushed her. She felt the wind whipping around her as Iron Man shot up above her. Using her powers she landed on an invisible platform and bolted back, standing on the balcony behind them.  
"And there's one other person you pissed off! His name was Phil." Loki tried to raise his scepter but was fired at by Iron Man. Loki fell on his ass in the room as the sky was ripped open by a vortex. She gasped as the army flooded out into the sky. Iron Man turned to her and then looked up.

"Almost forgot about that," he muttered as he flew into the swarm, shooting off any weapon he had. She grabbed a sawed-off shotgun from the inside of her coat, firing at anything that came into her vicinity. The creatures were a mix of replication and machinery, yet strangely humanoid in shape. She thought of the weapons she carried on her person and knew she was outmatched.

Loki came out to the balcony as they swarmed. They stood around her as she analyzed them, they worked together in perfect unison but didn't speak or gesture to their comrades. She ran out of ammunition and began hitting them with the butt of her gun before switching to her pistols. They didn't have any armor protecting their vitals. The chitauri also showed no resilience to human-made weapons.

She shot one and jumped over its corpse, using her powers to fall onto the street. Looking up she saw Thor screaming at Loki as they clashed. She felt for him for a brief moment until she was hit by one of the creatures. Firing at it she pulled on top of its shoulders and pulled it's spear out of it's hands; she slid down it's back and sliced it in half.

"Ma'am." She heard a voice behind her say, realizing it was Steve's.

"Captain." He looked at the dog mask she wore. She shot a chitauri that creeped up behind him. He had seen the crow mask from World War II in the doctor's room as if it was a trophy. They had always been on the same side.

"The police are setting up a perimeter on 39th street; help evacuate." She darted past him and he grabbed her arm. "James would be proud of you."

She moved the mask up slightly and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. He could see her beaming smile.

"Coming from you that means something," she said as he let go. "I'm going to go Stars and Stripes. Got stuff to do, ya' know?"

He laughed as she ran off into the crowds and created a barrier above them. They looked up as a roar pierced through the heart of the city, seeing a green thing jumping from building to building.

* * *

Remember how a few chapters ago I said I update almost daily? Yeah, I don't either nor did I take an almost month long break. Just sayin'.


	33. The Battle of New York, Part II

She ran to the barricades with two children in her arms, throwing them over to the police and flinging the creatures against the wall. Barton and Romanoff had joined her in hopes of evacuating everyone. They stood in front of the crowds and tried to push as much of the army back away from the civilians. Genevieve put up a wall, forcing them to move. They hollered back at her. Romanoff had given her a headset and could hear everything from the battlefield.

She commed Roger's, she was going on the offensive now. She looked at the large whale like thing flying through the skyline as she fought through the streets.

"I need someone to get me up there," she said to the Captain as she ran over to him. Hawkeye was shooting off arrows; Black Widow was using every bit of her abilities to spin around the chitauri with one of their own rifles. Thor flew down to them as well.

"Any news from upstairs?" He asked the god. **  
**"The powers surrounding the cube is impenetrable." Stark interjected over the comms as Thor finished. **  
**"Thor is right. We gotta deal with these guys." **  
**"How do we do this?" Black Widow muttered as she reloaded her pistol.  
"As a team," Captain said, looking at the destruction in front of him. **  
**"I have unfinished business with Loki." Thor stated. Hawkeye followed him up with a sarcastic comment. **  
**"Yeah, get in line."

"I need him too. Make sure he can talk when you're done with him," Genevieve said. **  
**"Save it. Loki's gonna keep this fight focused on us and that's what we need. Without him these things could run wild. We got Stark up top, he's gonna need us…"

They turned as they heard a motorcycle in the distance. **  
**"So, this all seems horrible." Banner said.

"I've seen worse." Black Widow replied and they went back and forth for a bit. Genevieve grabbed a chitauri bayonet off the floor. She swore she had heard him and seen Banner already as the Hulk.

"I'm getting too old," she muttered as she figured out how to operate it.  
She could hear a faint giggle.  
"Just like you said." Captain told Stark. The sound of buildings falling echoed in the distance. She heard Stark mention something about a party over the headsets.

"Parties have changed a lot," she told him as she saw the monster coming towards them.  
"I... I don't see how that's a party…" The spy said as Iron Man came down to them, swooping as the monster trashed everything in its path. Banner started walking towards it.  
"Dr. Banner. Now might be a really good time for you to get angry." The soldier told him, Banner smiled. **  
**"That's my secret, Captain. I'm always angry." HIs body began to change form, gaining a sickly green tone as a piercing scream left his body. He ran at the monster, leaving in his wake an exploded creature, the guts falling around them. They could win this now. The leviathans crashed onto the ground, exploding as Thor, Iron Man, and Hulk went after them.

Thor flung her on top of on and she began gouging its eyes out with the spear at the end of the rifle. It screamed in pain as it crashed, she jumped to it's back and made quick work of the soldiers it held as cargo.

More creatures pooled out of the portal. They needed to rethink their strategy; it wouldn't hold them off forever. She took the down the leviathans as fast as she could but they just kept coming.

Within minutes she was back at Stark Tower, she stopped hearing something whimpering on the ground as she ran up the stairs. Loki laid in a pile of rubble, his face cut up from the attack. She looked at him, cocking an eyebrow behind her mask.

"I got hit with an arrow and that beast attacked me," he said in a low voice, his hands rested on his abdomen.

"Ahhh, you deserve worse," she told him, raising her mask up. "Don't worry though I'll be back later." She grabbed the drink on the bar, downing it and ran up to the top of the building.

"Don't you want to know more about the girl?" He asked. She kept running.

"The sergeant?" She kept moving until she saw Selvig and the Black Widow, who held Loki's scepter.

"I'm shutting down the portal," she said as Tony screamed over the comms. She looked into the portal it was an armada just waiting. Captain was there too.

"I got a nuke coming in, it's gonna blow in less than a minute. And I know just where to put it."

"Stark, you know that's a one-way trip?"

They all watched in horror as he chucked the missile into the portal. The sky lighting up in a way she had never seen before. She couldn't seen him now as his body slipped forward.

"Stark, come on.." Natasha said, holding the scepter. Thor and Captain nodded as the explosion got closer.

"Close it," Rogers said to her. They looked through the sky.

"Look!" Genevieve shouted pointing at the red and gold blur.

"Son of a gun!"

"He's not slowing down," Thor said as he used his hammer to fly over.

He was cut off by the Hulk who held him in his arms. They all scrambled onto the street below. Thor tore off his helmet while Genevieve's eyes began to glow, her hands shining as well. The green monster screamed startling everyone around him.

Including Stark.

"What the hell? What just happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me?" He said trying to get up.  
There was a pause before Rogers spoke. "We won." **  
**"Alright. Hey. Alright. Good job, guys. Let's just not come in tomorrow. Let's just take a day. Have you ever tried shawarma? There's a shawarma joint about two blocks from here. I don't know what it is, but I wanna try it."

"Are you joking?" She asked, the glow disappearing. Thor turned to the tower, reminding them of Loki.

"Shawarma afterwards though?" Less than an hour later after Loki was apprehended they sat in a broken little shop, huddled around small table. Hulk took up almost half of it by himself.

"Not half bad," Steve said, holding his wrap. Genevieve sat next to him her mask pushed up enough to let her eat. She took a bite and started coughing.

"It's too spicy."

"It's what you get for getting chili sauce," Natasha replied, she chewed her bite.


	34. Fossil of the Past

She walked into Loki's cell, flanked by guards on both sides. He sat down in the middle of it, handcuffs on his wrists and his eyes closed. They opened as she entered revealing how bloodshot they were. His hair looked like a bird's nest, veins popped from his face. He was still riddled with injuries from the battle two weeks before. She sat down across from him on the floor and removed his muzzle. He looked as she clicked a button on her phone, making sure the camera couldn't see.

"I worked very hard to get to see you again, Loki," she began, placing her hands on his face. He flinched. A soft light emitted from her hands as she healed him. "Are these from the Hulk?"

"Barton," he stated simply. He watched, realizing her eyes no longer glowed. Loki couldn't help but scoff. "You've been practicing."

"You are possibly one of the worse military leaders I've ever seen. I did see Napoleon invade Russia during the dead of winter so that's saying something," he glared at her but she didn't waiver. "You're not a bad teacher. A bit too angry though."

"You're frustrating." He leaned his head into the palm of her hand, feeling the warmth it gave off.

"You're not the first to have said that." She laughed and leaned back against the wall, sitting with her legs crossed. "Probably won't be the last." He looked into her hazel eyes as she looked into his mossy green eyes.

"Why heal me?"

"I've always been a healer before a fighter," she told him, closing her eyes. She knew how to contact her now.

"Much on your mind?"

"Not really."

"Are you sure? You did give your dead lover's best friend a kiss on the cheek." He said, watching for her reaction. She laughed again, the chain around her neck shining under the depressing fluorescent lighting.

"It's not that."

"Vietnam? The girl maybe?" She looked at him with a look he typically gave others.

"Is she real or is she one of your little games?"

"Could be both," he mocked.

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Does she have a name?"

"No."

"When was she born?" She wasn't going to give up.

"August 8th, 1964. You should remember you were there," he said with a laugh. "They wouldn't even let you hold her. Such a pity." In an instant he was being lifted off the floor, her hands on his collar.

"Filthy liar. I don't have any children."

"Don't let her hear you. She's a very sensitive. If you really thought that you wouldn't be here." He retorted as she dropped him. "You remember nothing and that's why you've come. I've watched you since the beginning, no one knows more than I do."

"Why? Couldn't find anyone else to torment?"

"You're not human. I wanted all my pawns lined up on the table when I needed them."

"Am I Asgardian then?" She looked at her hands, flexing them as they lit up.

"Yes. What else could you be?"

"I don't know; aliens are real so anything seems possible. You tried to bribe me with becoming mortal; could that happen?"

"No," he said hastily. "I could never have had a mortal queen.I can't fathom why you care for them so." She snorted.

"I don't understand why you've decided to be all alone; why you're so angry when you have people who love you." He stayed quiet.

"I'm happy I didn't take the offer." she stood up, her phone beeping.

"You'll never find her." She placed her finger over her lip, shushing him.

"Because of you she's found me. I don't need you anymore."

She laid down in her bed later that day, letting sleep take her. In the dreamscape snow covered everything, she walked through the blizzard that whipped around her. The elements didn't bother her as she wandered in her nightgown. Was this her home?

"I need a hint!" She bellowed, using her hands to emulate a megaphone. "Something, sweetheart! Anything!"

A small form laid in the snow ahead of her, she ran to it. The little girl looked just like she had before. Snowflakes clung to her eyelashes and her complexion showed no lively hue. She was a sickly ashen tone. Genevieve pulled her into her arms, her fingers brushed the girl's velvety hair and caressed her face. She could feel a rage in her chest building, a protectiveness she didn't know she had growing beside it.

"Cold," she muttered to her. "Asleep…."

"It's going to be okay but I need to know where you are." She told her, cradling her against her body. Her small eyes fluttered open, the blue grey of them boring into her own. She reached for the necklace.

"The soldier," it was barely audible. Not even a whisper. "Knew him." She stared at the girl.

"Who's the soldier?"

"You knew him too," a small tear threatened to fall before Genevieve wiped it away.

"Shh, there's no reason to cry. I'm coming for you; wherever you go I'll find you." She gave her a small smile that only grew as the girl gave her one in return.

"Good." Her hands glowed as she tried to heal her and bring some warmth back. The thick walls of snow were clearing up now, slowly falling around them. She picked her up, walking through the terrain. There was nothing else around them.

"Is this where you are?" She asked her, looking for any landmarks only to find more snow.

"I think. The Soldier took me outside."

"Does he have a name? Maybe I could find him."

"Soldier," she replied bluntly. It seemed completely normal, she even gave Genevieve a look, as if everyone had names like that. She had a pinky complexion now, her cheeks flushing.

"What's yours?"

"Millie." She brushed the snow off the girl's face as she giggled. Her hazel eyes narrowed and her brows furrowed together.

"What's so funny?"

"It was yesterday."

Her body started to regain consciousness and she felt herself jolt awake. The dreamscape fading into blackness, the small girl's body disappeared into dust; falling between her fingertips.

"Come back!" Her voice cracked as she called out to her. "Millie!"

She jumped up from the pillows, a thick layer of sweat covering her. Pieces of hair stuck to her face and down her back. Quickly she got dressed and ran to the one person who could help her. She knew what she needed to do now.

Stark nearly died right then and there as she hopped into the renamed Avenger's Tower.

"Holy shit!" She clamped her hand over his mouth, pulling him into the hallway. Pepper's form shifted in the bed.

"Tony?" She said groggily. "Is everything okay?" He looked at Genevieve and turned back into the room. She hid in the shadows of the hall, pushing herself against the wall.

"Yeah, Pep. Just thirsty. I'll be right back." He shut the door behind him and they walked toward his playroom. She stared in wonder at all the tools and pieces of machinery. "I'm surprised JARVIS didn't see you."

"I turned him off, he'll be back online before I leave," he was shocked.

"You did what?"

"It took awhile but I don't want any records of my visit so it's worth it," she slid into a stool and he watched as she pulled out a flash drive. SHIELD's insignia lit up on the screen.

"What have you got there?"

"The drive is connected to SHIELD'S mainframe.I broke into SHIELD earlier." She didn't look up at him and continued to type.

"Ahh"

"If it makes you feel better I'm sure they haven't figured out yet."

"So why do you need me?"

"I'm erasing myself from the playing field," she stated. "I can't break through to the files so I figured I could use some genius." She winked at him with a smile earning a laugh.

He nudged her out of the way. "Flattery can get you everywhere. Usually."

"But you also don't like SHIELD. It's a win-win." He laughed.

"I'll do it but I want to know why."

"It's simple," she said with a shrug. "Me being the fossil I am-"

"Did I hurt your feelings?"

"I don't want SHIELD beckoning me like a lapdog, Stark. I need to sort things out for myself." She stopped as a picture flashed across the screen.

"Who's that?" She asked.

"A conspiracy theorist's dream." She raised an eyebrow and reminded him she needed some seriousness. She read through the file.

The Winter Soldier. The man in the jungle; before Millie. Loki's constant babbling about Vietnam started coming back to her.

"That picture's over fifty years old. I wouldn't put much stock into it."

"Fifty years is nothing. Steve's almost ninety five. I'm too old to bother going into it," she retorted with a chuckle.

"Like a fossil?"

"Yeah, a fossil." She watched as everything about her disappeared from the screen. "That's everything?"

"Yeah, no Genevieve Jones has ever existed," he said triumphantly. She thanked him and put her arms out. "Oh no, I don't do hugs."

"Fine," she patted him on the shoulder, giving it a squeeze instead. "Take care of yourself. Hopefully I'll see you soon."

"You too." She walked over to the window, pulling out her phone. "Wait, Genevieve, does Steve know about any of this?"

"No and I'm trusting you to keep it that way. That drive's a parting gift by the way. Use it wisely." Her finger tapped a button on her phone as she hopped off the ledge and jumped onto the nearby scaffolding. He ran to the window and watched as she vanished into the city.

* * *

Next Chapter starts Captain America: The Winter Solider. Yaayyy.


	35. Pink Elephants on Parade

The world seemed abuzz again. Everyone had seemingly relaxed from the earlier incident that had happened in Britain, conversations returned to the mundane and ordinary. A man sat in an expensive dinner, he was bald with a slight tan and wore rectangular glasses. He nor any of his allies knew that would happen to him tonight.

"Ma'am, you can't come in here," a host said as a woman with frizzy russet brown hair tried to enter. She wore oversized torn clothes, not belonging to the type of class this place usually brought with it. A phone was in her hand, a space on the side of it lit up. Eventually she was kicked out but it didn't matter.

Turning the corner into an abandoned alley she crouched down to another woman, who sat under a cardboard roof next to a dumpster. Her hair was a tawny blonde tone that waved down to her shoulders with a baseball cap covering her roots. She had vibrant eyes that showed a type of power unexpected in a beggar. The brunette handed over the phone and watched as the blonde scrolled through it. She thanked the woman and pulled a large amount of bills from the pocket of her coat, telling her to keep quiet.

She looked up at the sky, seeing the clouds pouring over the city. Rain was coming to D.C. without a doubt. Once the streets cleared from the rain she swiped a newspaper from a street vendor and hurried into a small hotel. No one asked questions here. She made a cup of coffee and read through it, nothing of significance to her cause was there so she discarded it. Something about a historical building bought just to be torn down later in the year, her eyes barely grazed over it. She changed into a pair of spandex leggings and a tank top, she had a body that showed years of physical training. Her body showed she was a skilled fighter and gymnast, everything was toned from her shoulders to her calves. It had taken time for her to return to this before she was still impressive but now she felt no strain. She got up and put a spoonful of sugar in her drink, leaving the spoon in the mug.

Weakness wasn't something she could afford to be, she had waited too long now. The voice had dulled now, she barely heard anything now. Something had changed.

It could've been the fact that she couldn't sleep anymore.

The sound of water falling echoed through the bathroom, she switched the light on and placed the phone of the sink counter. A breathy gasp came from behind the shower curtain. Taking her time, she flipped on a cassette recorder and grabbed a small black box from under the sink. Boxes of hair dye littered the space as she shut the small door. The recorder was left in cabinet, hiding and listening. She pulled open the shower curtain, a man stood under the water with his hands chained to a metal rod above him. The gag in his mouth had slipped slightly, she removed it and turned the water off. He shivered as she threw a towel over his shoulders. His body showed the damage of what being in her care had done to him. His ribs poked out under the thin shirt he wore and he could barely keep himself up.

She sat on the edge of the counter and pulled up the video on her phone.

"Look at all your friends," she said pointing to them in the video. "It's like you never existed to them." She turned it around to view it. "Sitwell's even laughing with Senator Stern." He looked at her blankly as she grabbed the coffee mug and placed it in front of him. The smell wafted up his nostrils and his stomach growled in response. She took a sip and smiled behind the cup.

"What day is it?" His voice was cracking, his lungs heaved as he spoke.

"December 26th." She said simply, grabbing the box and wiggling the lid off. It was his second week with her in the small hotel bathroom. A syringe and a page of small cartoon characters was in the small box, every night they had done this. Sometimes in the morning too. The cartoon characters seemed so deceiving to him now; their pink cheeks and tiny black eyes staring back at him. He could remember seeing _Dumbo_ as a child with his mother. He always hated Pink Elephants on Parade. "We don't have to do this again. I know your friends have him."

He stayed silent. "I'm sure you'd like a good meal, a change of clothes. I could do that for you but I need this information." She stood up and pointed to his forehead. "It's all in here, Willam."

He had stopped her from taking what she needed. Early on she learned that she could be blocked out and it had caused many problems.

Unnecessary casualties.

She traced a vein on his arm and held it in place as she lined the needle's point with it. "HYDRA has left you. I'm the only thing keeping you alive."

"Fuck yourself," he spat at her. She shrugged, shoving the needle and allowing the the liquid to enter his bloodstream. The gag was put back and she turned the water back on, turning the valve all the way to the right. Earplugs were placed in his ears and a pair of goggles over his eyes, blocking him from seeing anything. Frigid water hit him as she closed the curtain back up. He was hallucinating already, the dose was stronger than she normally gave him. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose to keep the tears in her eyes from falling. This all went against everything she was but she didn't have any other options. Everything she had been trained to do and had tried to forget was being used now.

She forced everything to the back of her mind as she grabbed a box of dye from the sink. Her roots were becoming more pronounced; copper bleeding a few inches into the blonde. Grabbing the small blue brush in the kit she began brushing her hair with the goop she had mixed together in the small plastic bowl, saturating her hair in it. The man behind the curtain groaned in agony as she did put in earbuds, not being able to bear hearing him. He was her first victim in a long time. All of HYDRA's training would never leave her, the monster always swarm under the surface. It feed on everything that laid under her skin; every emotion, every nerve plucked. All her losses.

She could cut off one head but a new one would take it's place.

An earbud fell out and she could hear the man trying to speak. She yanked the cloth away from his mouth.

"Pierce! Secretary Alexander Pierce! Rumlow!" He bellowed as she pulled an earplug out. All he could understand with his senses was the water hitting him and the smell of cheap hair dye.

"What about him?"

"They have the soldier! They know where the Winter Soldier is!" She smiled and turned the water off. She threw a towel over her hair as she unchained him, he collapsed onto her back as she carried him into the bedroom. He well into a chair on the side of the room, she healed him and destroyed the drug that floated through his system. His dazed eyes watched as she pushed a table in front of him and walked to the other side of the room. She pulled a meal from a nearby gas station out of the small fridge and he devoured it greedily. The room was different shades of murky brown and beige with an outdated carpet and furniture. He was happy to see something besides darkness, delusion, or the white of the bathroom's tile. His eyes slowly stopped dilating as he ate, she sat across from him with the recorder in her hands.

"Do you have anything else to say, William?"

"Rumlow," he gulped down his coffee," Brock Rumlow, he's his handler." She asked of Vietnam. "Find Zola he would know."

"Zola's not alive, he passed away in the early seventies." She scoffed and cuffed him to the chair. She had enough now to get to them without that little lie.

"Once this is over and your buddies are dead, you can go home. First, we're going on a field trip tomorrow." He tried to question her about it. "It's a surprise, Willy. I won't spoil it just yet"


	36. Change

The man laid down on the bed, handcuffed as he slept. She sprawled out on a chair, her legs draped over the side of it. The bags under her eyes were pronounced, her complexion paler than usual. She ran her hand through her freshly dyed hair, it was a dark auburn now and straight compared to the frizzy waves they had been before. Her hazel eyes turned to the file in front of her, she looked through it. A baby girl smiled back in some of the photos, everything was written in Russian but she understood enough of it.

August 8th, 1964.

Five pounds, six ounces.

Sixteen inches long.

She was such a tiny little thing. The images were coming back to her, the sounds. Her first cries and the gloved blue hands taking her away. There was much there though, she remembered a man, the one from the jungle in the doorway being taken away. He was screaming her name, for the baby. She didn't know why though. The sound of electricity rang as he disappeared from view, drowning out her name. She could see Zola in the corner of the room, old and grey in his wheelchair.

She couldn't remember any of her capture only the man. The Winter Soldier.

All of the information about Genevieve's pregnancy was there but there was nothing about the father in the file, that page was missing. She had done her best to live vicariously through the information, tried to remember the feeling of little feet kicking in her belly. She wouldn't remember her conception though.

The file had been in an abandoned HYDRA faculty in Laos, it carried leads no where she was. She had scoured the Earth looking for whatever she could but everything slipped through. Her feet had carried her through the strangeness of Tibet's oldest sanctuaries to the rolling hills and bustling life of San Francisco. They had learned to cover their tracks after World War II, better than they had ever before.

Placing her head against the back she slowly fell asleep, a hand on her belly.

There was nothing in the dreamscape now. No snow, not even the usual gray lab room. Millie stood in front of her.

It had been two years since Loki had unknowingly connected them. The girl had spent years trying to reach her with no prevail. When Genevieve had been in the faculty the girl's powers had been contained but the past fifty years she hadn't been able too. The soldier had helped, they took him away from her too. It was a mystery as to why. The scientists had keep the girl in cryostasis because of it, seldom letting her leave it. It might've explained why they couldn't keep in touch. She knew it was a dreamless sleep. The scientists hoped that she would be able to control them with time initially.

Today had been one of those hope filled days.

Her hair was a little longer now closer to a bob but still not quite long enough, it showed how much red was in her chestnut locks. It was now starting to form little ringlets around her face. The red contrasted with the vibrant blue of her eyes despite there being so little of it. She wore a plain sunny yellow sweater under a blue jacket, jeans, and a pair of beat up sneakers. Their surroundings changed to a busy hall, people moved like a blur while they stood motionless until the girl reached up, her small fingers touched Genevieve's red hair. Men with dog tags around their necks darted past as did doctors and scientists.

"Pretty Mama," she muttered as Genevieve placed her hand on the girl's head. She'd barely aged. She bent down onto the girl's level.

"Look at my little Millie." She said, putting her hands on the girl's rosy cheeks. Millie had straight nose and a small mouth with a natural pout, a slight cleft in her chin as well from her father. Genevieve never would have believed that she was her daughter without that file. She looked nothing like her besides her faint freckles and the slight red tone in her hair. Nothing else about the girl resembled her.

Well, maybe the powers the girl had clued into her heritage but in the world they lived in these things were becoming normal.

She pulled the girl into a hug. "They woke me up today, Mama. We're going somewhere new."

She feigned a smile. "Well change can be good sometimes."

"I saw the soldier today." The girl began walking, taking Genevieve's hand. She lead her into a room. The man stood there in his mask and goggles wearing thin kevlar body armor and boots, shoulder length brown hair framing his face. Doctors and scientists flanked him, checking his vitals and asking him questions. Millie let out a small sniffle."Do you remember him?"

"A little." The girl looked down, wiping her face with her sleeve. "Did something happen, Millie?"

"He doesn't remember me." A machine stood in the corner of the room with a chair in the center of it, two metal pieces hung above it like raven's wings. A plastic mouth guard laid on a tray next to it, dripping with saliva. The woman placed her hand over her heart and looked at her daughter.

"Have they ever put you in that thing?" She asked pointing to it.

"Once. It hurt; I broke it." Millie stated showing no emotion. Clearly she didn't want to think about it. Genevieve let out a relieved sigh. "They put him in there though."

"Did he say anything to you?"

"No," her voice wavered, a small tear fell. Her mother pulled her close as she cried, her small chest heaving.

"It'll be alright, Millie. Let it all out." She rubbed her back and kissed her forehead before pulling her to her chest, holding her close. She couldn't let her go again.

"He didn't know my name," she cried. Eventually she calmed down, holding the tags around her mother's neck.

"Where are you now, sweetheart?"

"I don't know. We're in a box." She rubbed her bright red nose on her sleeve. "It's windy outside though."

"Is there anything else you want to talk about?" She shook her head and pointed to the man again. Genevieve rose up and analyzed him. He was tall and built, sturdy but he wasn't particularly muscular. She had never seen him so close up before. He was threatening and the metal arm at his side only enforced that, a red star painted at the shoulder. She went to touch him only for him to fade, she wanted to see the eyes of the man who her daughter cared so much for. The man who took her back to HYDRA.

"Help him too." The girl said. "He needs help."

"I need to find you first, sweetheart, then we'll talk about it"

"But he helped you escape," she said, her voice getting louder. "We all could've left but the bad men found out!"

"Millie," she shushed her and put her hands on her shoulders, "I don't know what you're talking about." The girl swipped her hands away.

"Why can't you remember!?" She screamed at her mother. "He took us outside!" The lights began flickering, the dream fading. The man swirled into gray, the whole room did until all that lingered around them was darkness.

"Millie! Stop! You're going to wake up if you work yourself up." The girl was crying again, gasping for air as little hiccups escaped her. "I'm going to find you. I love you, Millie."

"I love you too, Mama," she turned and the man reappeared. "I love him too." She pulled her to her again.

"I know, sweetheart, I know. I'll try to fix as much as I can."


	37. The Smithsonian

TheLightBehindHerEyes: I will not take those feels back. I am very happy to see you're reviewing again though! I missed it. :)

* * *

Steve stood in the Smithsonian, admiring the exhibit. He didn't know how to feel about it. Bucky's face stared back at him from the glass mural. A woman stood next to him in a blue beanie, wavy red hair slipping through it.

"Bucky Barnes was the only Howling Commando to give his life in service of his country," a voice said from a speaker under the glass, the woman's nose was bright red as she rubbed it against her sleeve. He turned to her, recognizing her almost instantly.

"Do you come here often?" He asked her as she looked at him with her almond shaped hazel eyes. She wore a navy blue coat and black jeans, a silver chain peeked out from the collar.

"Of course, I've gotta see my boy, Stevie," she said with a sad laugh. "I'm here almost everyday." She walked over to the mannequin who wore a similar coat to the one she had on, his painted face looked away from her and up at the ceiling.

"He wouldn't want you to be like this." She looked at him with a raise eyebrow. He could see how tired she was, blue and purple veins showed under her skin which was almost grey in tone.

"He wouldn't want you too either," she retorted. "It's not just for him. I need a reminder of what I've lost to keep me on track."

"You didn't say goodbye before you left," he began as he pulled her into a hug. He was so warm compared to her frigid body.

"I'm sorry but the world was calling for me elsewhere." He smiled and she gave him a small one in return.

"Well, next time write me a letter," he barked. "I was worried. It's hard to find people who know what it's like."

"We're old," she laughed. He told her how Natasha had called him a fossil and now he understood why she had taken it personally when Stark had two years ago. "And you thought I was being dramatic!"

"I know! I'm sorry!" He said putting his hands up in surrender.

"Shhh! This a memorial!" An elderly woman snapped, Steve pushed his baseball cap down and Genevieve apologized.

"She's got a point." He mentioned as he walked away, her hands hovered over Bucky's face on the small screen as he smiled. She missed his toothy smile, the way his cheeks dimpled and his head swayed. Millie did that too but it was so much rarer. She wanted to tell Steve everything she knew but decided against it. He deserved to live a peaceful life.

They walked together. She told him he looked cute before the serum which he shook off, disagreeing entirely. Bucky was always the first pick, she had done it too.

"The world's changed so much. I don't know how you do it," he said.

"I have too, if not for me- for everyone else." They sat down and watched a video reel. She recognized some of the children she had saved, a smile coming to her face. Her shoulder nudged him and she pointed to the small girl. "That's little Aliza, I took her from the Warsaw Ghetto when she was two. She's not so little anymore; got grandkids, everything you could want out of life." They were quiet for a moment. "That's why I do it, Steve."

He nodded in understanding. It was for the little guy, the underdogs. What he had been before the serum. Steve got up and told her it was nice to see her. They parted ways and she left the museum while he went through more videos, wanting to prepare himself to see Peggy.

She stood on the steps looking up at the sky before putting on her sunglasses and walking back to her hotel.

The man laid on the bed, still handcuffed with his eyes covered. He was awake now, she pulled the gag out and removed the blindfold. She grabbed some clothes from under the bed for him.

"We're leaving tonight. Get dressed," the handcuffs popped open as she turned the key. William rubbed his wrists as she pulled some food from the mini fridge and threw it onto his lap. He tore open the wrapper to the cheap sandwich, taking in gulps of food. She turned to him and reminded him to chew as she grabbed a change of clothes.

"Zola's in Camp Lehigh," he told her. She scoffed at him like she had before.

"He's dead. I told you that."

"His body did. The rest of him is in New Jersey." She turned to him, her brows knitted together and her mouth contorted in a mix of disgust and confusion.

"What the fuck does that mean? Your body is you- what else is there?" He told her how Pierce had told him of Zola. It wasn't very useful and if anything it just confused her even more.

"So," she dragged out the vowel," what you're telling me is." She paused trying to process it. "He's a computer?"

"Exactly."

"You've had one too many bad trips, WIlliam. I'm sorry about that, truly I am. It might've fried you." He looked agitated immediately as she talked down to him.

"I knew about this before you took me hostage."

"Fine, we'll go." She said with an exasperated sigh. He quickly put his clothes on and they huddled into a car she had stolen off the streets months ago and had kept hidden in an abandoned parking garage nearby. She had a small messenger bag with her. It was full of children's clothes and food for Millie; guns and a small USB drive for her.

The car ride was quiet as they drove up to the deserted military faculty. She left him outside chained to some railing as she explored it with a flashlight in her hand. There was a room hidden by an old SHIELD office, she was surrounded by data banks. The drive was a copy of what she had given Stark years ago with some added information from her travels. She put it in a USB slot that was much more modern than everything around it.

It turned on with a grunt-like nose as the processors began to work. A small camera at the top of the computer looked at her.

"Stormberg, Genevieve Alexandra. Born 1691." She was blinded as the screens turned green and turned away slightly. She hadn't used that name in centuries; how could it know?

"You told me much, Frauline," it said to her, the voice brought chills to her even with the distorted tone it carried. She knew who it was.

"Zola?"

"I'm surprised you still remember me, Evie," he mocked her, dragging out her name in a playful tone. "Do you remember our time together?"

"In the Red Skull's laboratory." It tsked her.

"Your time with the Soldier then?" Her eyes widened. "That's why you're here isn't it?"

"The girl; where is she, Zola?" She could hear footsteps now.

"Closer than you realize." Her shotgun clicked as she loaded it. "That will do you little good, Frauline."

"How'd you do it?" She screamed, jumping down and tearing a small hole in the metal paneling. A handful of wires in her hand.

"It was simple really. After our success with the new fist of HYDRA we realized, that with the aid of technology far ahead of it's time, you could be brought back to us." She thought back to the machine Millie had showed her.

"The machine you put him in what does it do?" It laughed.

"The Memory Suppression Machine does exactly what the name says it does, Frauline. It's why you're here now. You spent years in our care." She could hear a video playing and went back to the platform to see the Soldier on top of her, there was no fight. He even seemed to be gentle. His face was hidden behind a curtain of hair. She gasped as she saw more the video, she was enjoying herself. Had that machine really erased that much of her memory? She had always blamed the time gap she felt on the chemicals used in Vietnam and her not caring for herself after James' death. Not now though. "You became rather docile with us with time even mothering the next generation."

"The girl?"

"Not girl. Weapon," he corrected. People were kicking at the door now, a battering ram was being brought down. She hid behind the platform, her gun positioned at the door. It tore itself open as men swarmed the room, shooting at her. The one person she wasn't expecting to be there stood in the doorway.

Her body was slammed against the wall without any warning. Bright blue eyes bored into hers as she lost consciousness.


	38. Saudade

TheLightBehindHerEyes: I'M SORRY D,:

* * *

She forced her body back up, not letting the pain in her head keep her down. Quickly, she flung the soldiers against the wall, the air in the room constricting around them as she looked up to see those steel blue eyes again.

"Why are you here?" Small tears formed in the corners of her eyes.

"To see you," a small voice replied. She went over to her, watching the men with her arms spread wide. A few bodies dropped around them as their hearts stopped.

"My little Mille," she said in a bittersweet, biting her lower lip as tears fell. She wrapped her arms around the frail girl. "It's going to be all better now. I promise you."

"But Mama-" She began as she was picked up and placed at Genevieve's hip.

"Is that really wise, Frauline?" The computer said behind her. She scoffed at it and went upstairs, holding Millie's head close to her shoulder. She told how she didn't need to see anything as men fell to the floor like leaves in fall.

"But Mama," she said again, her voice muffled by the hand forcing her head into her mother's kevlar vest. "He's here too. We came to get you."

She stood in the doorway, listening to the sound of bullets firing. Millie huffed as Genevieve ignored her. She knew who Millie's father was now, maybe he did too.

He had pushed her out into the snow, a small toddler in his arms. She began walking as the snow fell off the mountains overhead but they couldn't get out in time. He was screaming at her, telling her to run as he ducked back into the bunker. The snow pushed her down onto hills miles away from them. She could remember the feeling of something coursing through her bloodstream, it must have always been there during her imprisonment. Some hallucinogenic, some tranquilizer; something. It didn't feel right. Her neck felt heavy.

Zola had brought everything back to the surface.

They turned the corner and he was there. The Winter Soldier with his gun cocked at her with men flanking him, she had them on the floor within a second.

"Put the girl down." She clung onto her mother, small nails digging into her shirt as she tried to put her down. She soothed her until her feet hit the ground, Genevieve placed her hands up but kept the girl close as she went towards him cautiously. She dropped her messenger bag.

"I know you, James," she said, feeling Millie's hands gripping at her back. "I know what you've done. It's not you." She reached out to him with one arm once they were at a dist close distance. "Let me help you, Bucky." Her fingertips ghosted against his mask while the other pulled out the tags under her shirt.

He moved one hand from his gun as she gave them to him, the metal of the tags blending into his arm until her hand held his. He could feel her through the sensors on his arm. "We can all leave now, James. You, Millie, and me."

The goggles obscured her view, his body was tense as she removed them with one hand. He was fighting some Pavlovian response, he knew what he needed to do but he knew this woman. She was from a far happier time.

He dropped his weapon onto the floor as she removed his mask, placing her palms on his face. Her face a river, her hazel eyes gleaming with some kind of joy but a sadness too. He didn't know what came over him as he pulled her closer with his metal arm, it just seemed so right, her lips brushing against his. Like they had done it countless times before in a ship and an old house brimming with laughter.

A bunker too behind closed doors.

Their lips fused together as they connected in a chaste kiss. Millie turned away with a bright blush on her face and a small smile.

As they pulled away something in his eyes changed, his hand now on her shoulder. The air was thickening around them. One of her ribs snapped as his knee darted into her abdomen, his arm only increasing the force he was using as he pushed her into it. He used his other hand to grab her leg from midair, she gasped as she hit the floor under him.

His metal hand was around her throat.

"Millie," she wheezed, looking up at her. She put her hands around it trying to fight him, her feet on his chest in an attempt to push him back. "I know you love him but you've gotta run." He punched her face, leaving a nasty bruise. "Take the bag! Go!"

"You're my mission," he grunted as he continued to hit her. Millie's eyes were wide in shock, her breathing hastened. She ran up to him, trying to grab his arm, screaming at him to stop. He flung her back into the railing another man appeared.

"That's enough!" The soldier grunted and backed up from her instead checking the little girl for wounds. He was disturbed, he felt things he had buried under years of pain and abuse.

Genevieve laid there on the floor, unconscious now. Her lip busted and a couple of ribs were broken, her skin a thick mess of purple and black. She hadn't used her powers on him, refused to even.

He turned back to his daughter who rubbed her head. "I'm sorry," he whispered, keeping it out of the man's earshot. "I don't know what came over me." He wanted to hold her close and comfort her but he couldn't with his handler so close.

 _Secret_ , he mouthed at her and she nodded.

The man whistled. "Damn, you did a number on her," he said admiring her beaten up form. "I was hoping to get a few hits in." Her body was already healing, her skin weaving itself, the black slowly fading already.

He was tall with short black hair, stubble surrounding his mouth and lecherous brown eyes. "Asset, you and the girl get back to the base. I'll take this one." He pulled out a collar from his back pocket and wrapped it around her neck, it clicked. Her eyes opened hazily, her lips parted slightly. "Zola would love to see you like this again. Creepy old bastard." He flung her over his shoulder with a grunt heading back to their base.


	39. Don't Watch

TheLightBehindHerEyes: I do dare! Muahahaha. (Don't hate me.)

* * *

Rumlow sat next to her in the van, watching as her face and body healed on it's own. Bullet holes were torn through her clothing, each of the bullets falling to the floor with a ping as they rippled out of her skin. Millie and James were nowhere to be seen. She looked over trying to see them through the window but had no luck, the driver's head blocking her view. Rumlow placed a blindfold over her eyes.

He dragged her into the bank by her broken arm, she winced slightly letting out a dull groan. Her feet dragging behind his on the steps, hitting almost every one of them. Losing patience he yanked her hastily.

"You're the guest tonight. Don't want to be late." He muttered as they walked through the doors, she could hear them slamming behind her.

"How delightful," she replied monotone with a hidden eye roll. He accidentally pushed her into the metal bars of an old teller booth, noting her sarcasm. She ignored his fake apology as he pulled her into a vault, the bars shutting behind them and pulled off the cloth from her eyes.

Her eyes squinted under the sudden brightness from the lamps. She saw the machine across from her, the metal half rings holding their arms out to her. The Winter Soldier stood on the other side of the room, his face exposed completely.

She would've done anything to hold him close to her. Her eyes darted back to the machine as another man walked in flanked by guards.

The man's orangish blonde hair stood out against the gray of the room. Ghostly blue eyes protruded from oddly tanned skin. She knew it was Pierce by the way everyone moved around him, avoiding him.

"You killed over fifty of my best men today," he had a small smile on his face as he spoke. "That's no small feat."

"I could make it more if you'd like," she told him with a shit eating grin and a small chuckle that turned into a gasp as Rumlow turned to her and punched her hard in the gut. She toppled over from the pain and braced herself with her hands, she couldn't get up as Rumlow's knee pushed down on her back. He pulled her hands behind her back and her face meet the old concrete, the sound of a zip tie being opened echoed in her ears. It cut her wrists as he tightened it.

He crouched down in front of her as she grunted trying to shimmy out of Rumlow's grasp. His hands held her face up to look at his.

"There's a lesson in pain. It shows us our place and you need to be shone yours." She looked up at him for a minute before she spat in his face.

"Not by you." He wiped it away his eyes wide with blood lust.

"Oh, not by me; I have much more pressing matter to tend to. Rumlow here will be your caregiver," he gestured to the man on top of her. "So far I think you'll be an excellent match." The grin on his face mirrored the one she had given him moments before. She was silent as she was pulled back up. Her head turned to the Soldier's ever so slightly, trying to gauge his reaction. He immediately looked away from her gaze and it fell to his arm.

The sound of Pierce's footsteps brought her back to reality as he walked away, a group of guards joining him. Rumlow grabbed her arm and dragged her over to the machine, she kept her eyes on the Soldier's.

"Millie," she mouthed to him, he nodded the tiniest bit. She sighed in relief just as she was thrown into the chair, metal cuffs wrapping around her forearms.

She thought about Bucky's dog tags, his eyes in Germany.

Millie's eyes, how each freckle looked against her skin.

Mama, she called her.

Doll.

"Remember," she said aloud like a mantra. "Remember, remember." She keep repeating it over again as a plastic mouthguard was jammed into her mouth.

"Tell me if that works," the man laughed at her as the machine roared to life, the half circles hovering over her head like an omen. Like metal hands at her throat.

They weren't going to take her life away again.

She bit down on the mouth guard as the shocks came, again and again. They won't break me, she thought to herself. The pain amplified as Rumlow instructed the doctors to turn up the power. Tears fell from her eyes as she tried to hold back the rest that were threatening to fall. She couldn't even open them as electricity coursed through her.

It didn't stop seconds turned into minutes until it seemed she had been pinned there for an eternity. Memories flashed through her mind like a clip reel.

"I love you, Doll." He told her as they laid in her bed in London.

"I love you too," she muttered back, leaving small kisses along his jawline. A sweet smile across her face as his hands made paths on her body.

"I'll be fine," he had said before every mission. He hadn't been fine.

"I won't forget," she spat back at Rumlow as they machine stopped, spitting out her mouth guard. A low growl erupting from the back of her throat. These people didn't know love. They didn't understand what she had spent centuries going through.

They would all burn at her hands like their predecessors before them.

A knife began cutting through her top, she stared at him fire burning in her eyes. "Then you won't forget what I'm about to do to you."

"It's more fuel on your pyre," she muttered to him as he tore the thin piece of clothing. She could see the Soldier's- no, James' eyes staring at her, blown out in fear.

"Don't look," she mouthed as Rumlow screamed at the scientists to leave and for him to stay. He pushed her onto the floor, the sound of a zipper was all she focused on as he yanked her jeans down. She looked up at the ceiling. They couldn't do anything they hadn't already done to her before.

She winced at the pain, her broken down body not prepared for his forceful entrance.

"Damn," he sighed, enjoying the sensation of her wrapping around him as her body tried to force him out. Everything in her rejected this man. Zola had never been a sadist, not like the new generation of HYDRA. Not like Schmidt. Her cracked ribs made it hard for her to breath, small gasps escaped her as she downed as much oxygen as she possibly could. He grunted over her and she stared at him blankly.

His hand slapped her face.

"Fucking pay attention." His hand was at her breast now, squeezing it. She gasped slightly, holding everything back. She was good at that.

He dropped his head down to her neck and bit into her, drawing blood. She screamed as the flesh crunched under the pressure of his jaw. Her body felt raw as he thrusted into her, the feeling of their flesh rubbing together putting small tears in the corner of her eyes. She wanted to fight back but the collar around her neck was a new but old weight around her neck.

He finished, spitting the blood from his mouth and emptying his seed onto her abdomen. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as she looked at Bucky who watched her as she raised her arms for him before they fell to the floor in exhaustion.


	40. Rumlow

He didn't know what he was feeling as her arms fell and her eyes closed for a brief moment before she was shook awake. The HYDRA agent tore off the rest of her clothes and James turned away as the man took her again, flipping her onto her hands and knees.

"Don't you touch me!" He looked at her as she snapped at him, her bruised lips as Rumlow dipped down.

The taste of her chap stick still lingered on his lips, her lips were now chapped and blistered with droplets of blood splattered across her face from Rumlow's biting. She was screaming at him as he kept going, trying to move away only for him to grab her shoulders to keep her in place.

"Fucking prick," she stuttered, feeling like her lungs were going to collapse. He finished and bent down over her, catching his breath.

Rumlow looked up at him with a twisted look in his eye, a smirk making its way across his face. "It's been a long day. You handle it from here, Asset. I'll watch." Her heart sank. He got up, smacking her ass and making her let out a low groan. He was hesitant of his handler's orders as he looked over her body. Her freckles hidden under her bruises that had stopped healing, staying dark and pigmented over her pale skin. She was slumped over keeping herself up with on hand, holding her ribs with the other as she tried to steady her breathing.

One deep breath in.

"Don't be shy. It all still works, right?"

One deep breath out.

He nodded going over to her. "C'mon, I'm not gonna help you use it." Rumlow looked over at the machine in the corner, a silent threat hanging over the soldier. Her hazel eyes stared up at him before she fell to the ground, the collar around her neck hit the floor with a thud as her head rested on it's side.

Her hands went up to her broken ribs, trying to heal them as he took his position behind her. Rumlow focused on him, giving her time to mend them. He pulled her hands behind her back as the agent looked back at her, lifting her torso off the floor. A dull pain spread through her body as he leaned over her but nothing compared to what it had been before. She looked at him and he guilt washed through him.

"That's it don't be shy," his handler cooed.

They had done this before when she had looked different. That much he was sure of. Her body wasn't as muscular as it was now. Her hair was a vibrant copper not the dark red that she had now. She had more green in her eyes, not the dark amber that stared back at his blue ones. He looked empty to her, no spark to his eyes. Some things had remained but not enough for him to be the James she had spent so much time grieving over.

Her body pushed forward as he lined himself up with her and pushed himself inside of her. He groaned, feeling her for the first time in almost fifty years. She keep her eyes shut as the rest of her face contorted in pain, tears and cries escaping her. Rumlow looked over them, pumping himself.

"Stop," she said, "I can't-"

"You don't have to do this," he couldn't hear her pleas any longer. He picked up on her saying his name in such a small voice he barely heard her.

He put both her wrists in his flesh hand and put his metal one in her mouth. She bit it bracing down as he continued his assault on her body. His handler finished, dripping onto her hair. She flung her head to the side to keep it out of her face, hitting Rumlow with it by mistake.

"You think you're funny, sweetheart?" He said with a laugh as he turned to the soldier. "Open her mouth."

"No," she mouthed against his fingers. "James. No, no-"

He obeyed, holding her jaw open. He could feel her trying to move away.

"Don't bite me," he told her, grabbing a fistful of hair as he entered her mouth. The room was silent aside from the grunts that left their mouths, she whimpered and gasped as he pulled away from her.

He finished, holding her still as Rumlow zipped himself back up. Before she had a chance to make things worse he put his finger back in her mouth. Her thighs already had blood on them as it fell from her.

"Take her down stairs. We can have some more one on one time later." He smiled as James scooped her up in his arms. She didn't fight it as he opened the door, making sure he wasn't behind them as he held her close to him.

"Don't forget, don't forget" she repeated to herself softly.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, quietly. She looked at with her eyes wide in disbelief.

"Then why do it?" She croaked .

"I'm remembering things," he tried to form her name still unsure what it was. He looked at for a hint and she looked up at him with a sad smile.

"Evie, James." She gripped his arm as he placed her on a cot in the middle of an empty room. "Don't hurt me again, please."

"I don't want to hurt you or anyone else," he caressed her face. She let the tears fall.

"You need to go before-" She looked so broken as she held his hand, her fingers caressing his knuckles.

"I know. I'm going to check on Millie before they send me back out. You should take care of yourself. " He tried to lower his head to hers but she pulled away. His hand left hers.

"Remember," she called out to him. James nodded in understanding.

"Don't forget." He said back. "I'll try to come back for you." She limped up after him as he tried to leave.

"I'm happy to see you again, James."


	41. Papa

TheLightBehindHerEyes: GO FOR IT!

* * *

She walked through the halls with one of the doctors leading her to a small room with a glass window. Control panels lined the adjacent wall, they placed small pieces of plastic on her head. The wires connected to a large machine that marked lines. She didn't know what the lines meant though.

They placed her in front of a table, she sat down watching as they pulled a cloth off a large box. She moved her hands to the cage that was across from her, her fingers touching the locks. He swatted her hand away.

"Why is there a rabbit?" She asked, looking at it's white fur and bright red eyes. Her fingers petting it through the wires. He explained what the day's experiment would be and she jumped away from the rabbit, pushing the chair. The lights began to flicker. "I'm not doing it," she said quietly, pulling her chair back to the table

"Try." She put her hands up, focusing on the small animal. Her brows furrowed as she tried with all of her might to hurt it. It twitched and started making high-pitched noises, bouncing around the cage in a frenzy. Her eyes began to water.

"I can't," she said looking at her hands and then the man.

"You were supposed to kill the target today."

"I couldn't she was too strong," she muttered quietly, avoiding his gaze. She could hear someone walking behind the glass wall. The man who she had been speaking to pulled out a small tablet with a video feed. She could see her mother laying on a bed in a hospital gown, healing herself. Her face contorted as she began healing deeper, panting in between spurts of using her powers. She wondered why she wore a collar.

"Would you prefer if I hurt her?"

"What did she do?" He waved her off, putting the tablet in her hands. She looked at the animal again and then her mother.

The animal squealed as she went after it again but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She turned to the man and then looked behind the glass to see James.

Her father.

She gave it one more shot, putting all her strength into it. He couldn't have felt any guiltier, Genevieve and now his own daughter. Their own daughter.

He saw the camera feed on one of the monitors, she was curled up in a ball under the thin blanket on bed. James had told her to rest and she was intent on listening this time. Not like their time on the ship where he had caught her reading Keats. It had always seemed like a dream to him.

The man pulled out a small remote, his thumb on one of the many buttons.

She jerked up on the monitor, kicking at the sheets around her. Her screams echoed as the doctor turned the volume on the tablet, her body flailing in agony as she gripped the sides of the bed. A pale hand jumped at the collar trying to yank it off, it had been made with specialized vibranium. Indestructible.

Millie looked on in horror, the lights flickering around them as her emotions ran rampant. She turned to her father and then to the tablet. She wasn't a killer, she had never hurt anything in her life.

In a fit of rage she pushed the man into the wall, the cage flew with him as she grabbed the tablet and flung it into the table. The screen shattered around her as they spun. James ran to her side, shooting the camera on the far side. He crouched down to her, running his fingers through her hair as she hiccuped.

"It's okay, Millie. I'm here now." He wrapped his arms around her, being mindful of the metal one and kissed the crown of her head. The glass fell around them as she calmed down.

"But Mama," she spoke in between hiccups. He smiled down at her, seeing how much she resembled her mother. The red tinge to her hair, her freckles, and her attitude. He didn't have the willpower they did.

He had never said no to anyone from HYDRA.

"I know. We're all going to get out of here very soon but I need to listen to everything you're told from now on." She nodded, wiping her nose on her sleeve. He chuckled as she smiled at him. They stared at the tablet. Genevieve sat up on the bed gasping, her eyes on the camera with her hands rubbing her neck. "See? She's okay now, a little shaken but she your mom's strong. Stronger than most." He hugged her, holding her so tightly he was afraid he might break something as she tapped his shoulder.

"Solider, that-"

"I-I know," he said, pulling away. "Don't call me soldier anymore, Millie." She nodded. She was so reserved in comparison to him when he was younger. What he remembered at least.

"It's dad, Millie." She tilted her head, processing his words.

"Papa?"

He nodded, roughing up her hair. He smiled, making his eyes squint and revealing all his teeth. She did the same showing off her dimples.

James got up and started walking towards the door. "Someone came in the room. There's no camera in the hall so it's fine. Just lie for a bit."

"Okay."

"Watch yourself, kid."

"I'm not hurting anything anymore." She told him. He looked over the scientist that laid on the floor. In a quick moment he moved the body to make it look like he had been on the other side of the room.

"Leave. You don't need to see this." He said to her, she listened. "Go down the hall screaming for help."

He counted down for her and watched as she ran screaming. Once she was out of earshot he pulled out the gun at his thigh. The man didn't move as he shot him.

No one else was going to cause them anymore pain. He turned down the hall, running in the opposite direction to go after the imaginary invader.


	42. The Water Clears

Genevieve walked around the room, feeling the walls for any weaknesses. She knew it was under surveillance, the camera above her bed was a clear indication of that. She had been kept in the small gray room with a bathroom attached to it for at least a week. Rumlow appeared every so often his hands already undoing his belt before he even entered the room. If it wasn't for Millie he would have been in a pool of his own blood. James newfound presence didn't help either. They could've heard them speaking when he had first laid her down on the bed. They should've been more careful. Especially because of Rumlow.

He was foul. She had never been more sickened by a man. He came in that day gloating about how he knew of her knowledge of Millie. Schmidt had no bargaining chip nor did he brag about his conquests. She was standing on the bed, looking up at the camera. The collar around her neck, he pressed a button and watched as she fell onto the bed like fish flopping back into the water.

"What're you doing?" He asked, his belt falling onto the floor with a clang. She tried to catch her breath.

"What you're doing, watching," she retorted, sitting up and straightening her gown. He looked at her, the dark wavy red hair was slowly becoming the kinky curls they were naturally. Her eyes still held a fire, he couldn't have that. She tried to dim the emotion her eyes gave off, hoping the monotone the rest of her face held would even it out. It had always been a flaw in her HYDRA days, they had picked it out every time.

"You know who the girl is, don't you?" She remained silent, feeling his palm against her face as he slapped her. It didn't shake her. He laughed as she stared at him with venom. "You should be proud. Your baby is going to help bring a new world." She raised an eyebrow before he pulled her down onto her knees.

She endured the feeling of his belt leaving bruises and welts against her bare ass, the thin slices it took with it. It was becoming routine now. He'd pin her down and fuck her for a few hours before starting up the after party with his forgotten tool that had been discarded onto the ground. She thought of anything else but what was happening to her.

The words and images were coming back to her now. Vietnam was no longer murky, the feelings and what had happened was becoming crystal clear now.

She could remember him coming into a room underground and being thrown on top of her. They had tried pairing her off with other soldiers. Each of them ended up broken on the floor. The coldness she had carried melted when she saw him walk in without anything covering his face. She could hear them threatening him from the other side of door.

"We'll kill you." Death would be a saving grace.

"You'll be put back in cryo."

She could feel the chill of that machine. The glass casket they had put her in twenty years prior and he had saved her from that. So she saved him from it for as long as she could. The person they had watched; the feral animal who had ripped grown men apart became submissive with a simple punch to the face. She had never flinched before. They assumed that she had recognized him from her capture, fearing the man who had chased her through bomb infested jungle. Fearing the pain he would bring if she didn't comply, he had brought her to the facility bloodied and worn years before.

His eyes looked different though, they had never seen him before he was turned into a machine. They were what they had been in London. It always happened when he saw her like he had never seen her before then everything began to come back to him. Slowly he was breaking their hold on his mind. It flickered on and off like a lightbulb.

She relied back when he punched her, landing against the bed on her back. A smile hung on her face for a minute when she saw him before dying down as soon as it began, this room had little cameras everywhere. She wasn't going to give them a reason to hurt him anymore. They didn't need another.

It was happening all over again with Millie. She couldn't fight back. They now knew what they could hold over her head. That little girl wasn't a fighter.

Once Rumlow left she laid down onto the bed that had been changed after a week of soaking up his fluids and stench of sweat. The agent had looked terrified as he took in her bloodied appearance as it slipped down her legs and the bruises that dotted her face. Rumlow held her forearm in a vice grip as she stood there while the man ran out.

She limped off the bed, healing her thighs and massaging the broken skin as she walked to the bathroom. She could still smell his filth on her gown as she peeled it off. There were no cameras in the bathroom that she could see. She doubted that all of a sudden they cared about her privacy. The door opened as she turned on the faucet, she peered her head out from the door frame and quickly wrapped a towel around herself up.

"Who's there?" She asked, seeing no one there. Her vision blacked out momentarily and she rubbed her eyes. There was nothing wrong with them and her vision came back, she turned back into the room to see Millie standing beside her.

"Go. Papa's waiting."

"Millie get back in your room before they realize you left!" Someone threw clothes against the back of her head. Her head snapped back to see James with a backpack flung over his shoulder and her messenger bag.

"We're leaving." She took her bag from him and pulled out her gun.


	43. No Escape

Brazilwolf: Thanks for your review! I try to update often. This story helps me deal with my own issues so I'm sorry for some of the darker moments.

* * *

She woke in a cold sweat, her body jumping out of the bed as she tried to slow her breathing. She looked around the room. There was no escape. No James. No Millie.

Nothing but gray.

A heavy sigh left her as she rose up and walked over to the bathroom. She turned on the faucet, letting the warm water flow over her tired muscles. It calmed her slightly. She sat on the white tiled floor as blood swirled down the drain. Her fingernails scratched at her skin, wanting to get anything of him off. She wasn't sure how much longer she could take this. It would be so easy to escape. A small tear fell down her face just to be washed away.

She felt selfish even thinking about running. What kind of mother abandons their child? What kind of woman abandons her lover? She had already done that and it wasn't going to happen again.

The water shut off and she got up putting the gown back on and began inspecting the room again. Something was coming she knew it. Rattling was coming from inside the walls. The pipes, she thought, it was an old building but it didn't sound like that. It was more like the sound of a boiling teakettle. She backed out of the room, finding little holes on the ceiling where gas was leaking.

Her chest felt tight as she ran towards the door, she coughed up at gas as she beat on the door with her fists. Her vision was speckled with black dots. She tried to take a deep breath before crouching low and punching the door. The collar around her neck lit up and she gritted her teeth together trying to ignore the pain. She walked out of the room to see a group of soldiers surrounding her, Rumlow standing in the middle.

Someone punched in from the side and she snapped to look at them, wheezing as she dodged their hits. She could see James' blue eyes staring at her, emotionless as she dropped into a crouch. She fell to the floor as he punched her with his metal arm, hitting and breaking her leg as she tried to flip over him. He pulled her arm over his shoulder as the collar turned off. Rumlow nodded at him and they followed behind him.

"What's happening?" She asked him in a whisper, he remained silent. "James?" He glanced at her for a brief moment before looking away. His eyes were dull now. Nothing flickered behind them. His hand was around her waist, his fingers on her hip bone. She hissed as he applied pressure to it.

Whatever was going to happen it couldn't be good.

The Memory Suppressing Machine loomed in the corner of the room. James sat her in a chair across from it. She tried to grab his hand as he walked over to the machine.

"Zola told us. We've been watching you," Rumlow said as James sat down, metal cuffs snapped up to hold him in place. He grabbed her by the jaw, squishing her face as he leaned down to her level. "This is the last time you're going to see him."

The set of blue eyes staring at them got darker as Rumlow held her close. The fear her features held pulled at him.

"He was wiped a few days ago but we figured you'd like to see," he told her, whispering in her ear. "It's sad. Can't remember you or his daughter." She spit in his face.

"I wouldn't get too cocky," she muttered. "I've broken stronger men." She stared at him as a knife flew towards him from it pouch on his leg, silver ribbons glowing around it. He easily grabbed it and pulled up a fistful of her hair, forcing her to watch as the machine whirred to life. James began screaming through the plastic mouthpiece as two pieces of metal clamped over his face. She tried to pull away from Rumlow's grasp as his body convulsed in the chair.

"James!" He walked in front of her, dropping her hair and watching as she stared at the soldier's shaking body. Her lip quivered slightly, her eyes watering as she called out to him, trying to pull herself up. He pushed her back down.

"Scream all you want. Don't tire yourself too much before the fun begins." He pulled her up as the machine stopped and James was dragged out by two soldiers. He was covered in sweat and could barely move.

"Put him back in cryo." He said as they walked away.

She couldn't hold back anymore as she slammed them all against the wall. The collar turned back on, her hands went up to it.

She snapped it in half.

James fell onto the floor on his hands and knees as the guards hit the walls. She stood in front of one of the guards.

"Where's the girl?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she placed her hand over his heart, digging into his chest. Her eyes turned to the guard across from him.

"Do you?" He shook his head wildly in fear, bones began to crack under her hand. Her fingers digging under the skin, blood seeping onto her arm as she pushed through his broken sternum. He shook under the pressure, his eyes rolling to the back of his head to reveal their whites. Once his body stopped she turned to the man again, moving her hand to him.

"Walk down the corridor until you reach the staircase, go down a floor and she'll be on the right!" He half screamed. She smiled and tapped his head, his body slumped to the floor. Rumlow watched her as she staggered over to James, pulling him back up.

"You're not leaving! We'll kill the girl before you can get to her!" She put her hand out in front of her, watching as he passed out.

They walked out of the room, her leg ached as they went through the dropped James as a gunshot went off, darting to her girl. A scream escaped her as she walked into Millie's gray room.


	44. New Beginning

TheLightBehindHerEyes: It's okay. I'm happy to see your reviews whenever you get the chance to write them. Millie's okay...for the most part.

* * *

Millie stood in the corner of the room, a bullet hole only inches from her head. Her eyes watched the men around her. Their guns cocked as they zeroed in on her. They wouldn't miss a second time. She let out an ear piercing shriek. They had tried to shoot her, not even having the strength to pull the trigger on their guns. She had every muscle of theirs in a vice grip, snapping them. They all fell one by one as she screamed. She stumbled back against the wall, her hands clamped over her mouth.

Genevieve ran into the room and hoisted her up onto her hip, covering Millie's eyes with her hand. They looked conflicted, not understanding what she had done. She maneuvered over each of the bodies, blood spilling out of their gaping mouths, eyes wide in shock. Veins and capillaries busted under the skin giving it a blue hue, making them look like they had been dead for hours instead of a few minutes. She bent down; taking one of their guns and their security pass.

An alarm began going off as she pulled James up so he could wrap his arm around her shoulder, hers around his waist. The gun poking out from his back.. He was dazed from the machine and Millie was in shock. She tried pulling them through the halls, her leg wanting to fall off as she went back up the stairs. The muscles tightening as she focused, briefly, on healing. She got only a minute of relief. Guards flanked them as she turned the corridor, trying to stop them and she incapacitated with a glare. She closed her eyes tightly, a small silver stream appearing and running through the halls. It whipped at anyone it crossed, she gasped as she ran out of strength to keep up with it. Pushing on she traveled through the building, looking for anything that could lead to the outside world. She opened a door with the pass, hoping they were close.

A group of guards ran to them, she ducked to a nearby wall and dropped James', letting him rest against the wall. His brows furrowing as his back hit the wall. She placed Millie next to him as she shot them, tucking and rolling to avoid the bullets that flew towards her. The last one put up a fight, she disarmed him. She went to pull the cartridge to reload, it clicked and she fired it. Nothing came from the barrel.

He fired his gun, skidding her shoulder and leaving a small mark. The skin weaving itself.

"Christ," she muttered as she flipped the gun hitting him in the head with the butt of it. Once the man dropped to the ground, she sighed in relief as she saw a red light, taking the man's gun. She ran back to them, hoisting them back onto her small frame.

There was an exit door at the end of the hall, she went as fast as she could with the weight she was carrying. James was coming back and becoming more alert while Millie hid in the crook of her neck, crying softly in small hiccups.

James hand caressed her head as he staggered with Genevieve's steps.

"Shhh, it'll be okay." He stuttered before passing out. The sound of footsteps was coming closer to them as she opened the door, revealing a frosty winter's night. She was panting in exhaustion as she walked them down the white steps, snow crunching her bare feet. The sky was completely black above her with little specks of white falling down. There was an old car on the other side of the street, she turned to the door behind them and slammed it shut with her powers. The veins around her temple pulsed, her head thumping. Her face scrunched up as she made she sure could keep holding James as Millie lowered onto the ground.

"So pretty," she muttered as she placed her hand out to grab a snowflake, her breath creating fog around her. Red hair snapped back as men began to try busting down the door.

Her mother smiled down at her as she extended her hand, Millie took it and followed her. She stood as Genevieve placed her hand through the crack in the window, unlocking the old Buick. There was a blanket in the backseat which she flung over her head to find her hair and face. They must have left the window's open all night, there was a soft dusting of snow over the seats. It would do.

The front seat was one long seat and Millie jumped into the passenger seat with James' hefty frame draped over her. Her mother crouched in the driver's seat, hot wiring the car and looking over her shoulder as the door flew open. She closed the car door and drove off as the men began combing the area.

Millie looked down at James' brushing his hair from his face before resting her head against his forehead. Genevieve moved his legs so she was no longer sitting on him, making them angle upwards.

"Gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, he's going to be fine. Get some sleep."

"No," Millie retorted. She sighed and messed with the radio.

"Well, Millie," she ran her hand through her hair, getting frustrated with the car's antique dials. "We're in for a long night."

"Millie Rebecca," she heard James' sleepy voice grumble incoherently, she eyed him as he turned over. He was talking in his sleep, muttering about them. Something about Byron and Keats. Rabbits? She smiled as his arms wrapped around Millie and he nuzzled his face into her stomach, making her giggle. She snaked out from under him and jumped over to the backseat, Genevieve tossed the blanket over her as she curled up. She conked out before the short pop song was over.

James laid in the car as she drove, being blissfully asleep. In his dreams he was picking up the pieces HYDRA had scrambled. He had been out of cryo for the longest time he could remember, it messed with the Memory Suppression Machine somehow. His mind wasn't as malleable as it normally was under it's influence, warping and distorting his mind until he was nothing more than their toy.

She turned into parking lot and looked over at her sleeping little family before running into the small building. It was the first of many stops for tonight.


	45. We'll Meet Again

TheLightBehindHerEyes: Are you sure there's no trauma? Think about Millie and the rabbit.

* * *

He could hear a radio playing as he woke up. The song, he had heard it before but someone was singing over it. He was laying on something plush, he could feel there were some tears in the fabric. It was old and worn. He tried to stretch out his legs only to kick someone, tiny hands pushing his feet away. He opened his eyes to see Genevieve half asleep at the wheel, singing in an attempt to stay awake.

 _But I know we'll meet again some sunny day._

 _Keep smiling through_

 _Just like you always do_

He smiled at her as he sat up. His head shook, a migraine was settling in. He joined in with her anyways.

 _'Til the blue skies_

 _Drive the dark clouds far away_

 _So will you please say "Hello"_

 _To the folks that I know._

 _Tell them I won't be long._

She laughed and pulled the car to the side of the back road they had been driving on. He looked at the clock it was almost seven in the morning, the sun peaking out over the snowy terrain and pine trees.

"When was that song?"

"39' but we danced to it in 44'." She said, leaning against the headrest and turning to him, the chilliness of the car made her cheeks a rosy color.

"On the ship?" She nodded with a small tired smile. "You took Gabe's radio." He could see a bag of clothes in the backseat with women's and girl's clothes shoved in it. Along with a large comforter that had been molded into Millie's small shape. Gas station food wrappers covered the car, he could smell coffee in the cup holder between them.

"Back to your old self?" She asked.

"Not entirely but it's a start." He couldn't remember anything else besides the feelings he had for her and Millie, there had to be more. More than these little pictures that popped up in his head. His life didn't begin when he meet her. He looked at the car. They'd need to ditch it soon, once they crossed out of Virginia. The old station wagon was too noticeable. There was a wad of bills in the other cup holder.

"They didn't ransack my motel room," she said motioning to the bag in the back and the money. She had always made sure William couldn't trace anything back to her, it had payed off. "I took the blanket though; the heating is shot. Just like it was in the last car."

She wore a pair of dark jeans and a baggy grey sweater, the sleeves poking out of the sleeves of a navy coat that buttoned up to her chin. A pair of knee high boots were pushed to the side of the floor. He saw a plastic bag full of men's clothes next to it. She shoved them closer to him with her feet.

"I think they'll fit." He pulled out some of the clothes. All essentials in dark colors. A thick coat and a pair of boots laid on the floor. "We escaped around eight last night, had enough time to run into an old consignment shop after I got my stuff. No cameras, elderly forgetful staff."

"Anywhere else?"

"A gas station," she muttered, sipping her cold coffee. "Millie was hungry around three. I think she saved you a honey bun though. Trail mix maybe" She looked through a bag in the backseat, throwing him a water bottle as she hunched over the seat with her coffee still in her hand. "Girl ate everything when I wasn't looking."

"She's not used to eating," he sighed as he unbuckled his armor. "Probably will get sick." He threw on a long sleeved t-shirt and quickly changed out of his pants and into a pair of deep blue jeans.

"Got plenty of plastic bags at least. The windows work too." She pulled herself back into the front seat, holding a granola bar out to him. He took it and she pulled her hand back to her chest holding it there. She had saved him but he could see the fear in her eyes.

She shuffled in her seat, her voice nervous. "I have a safe house in New Orleans. Its such a crazy city, we should fit in fine." He nodded.

It would take time to fix what he had done to her. The way her eyes were a deep amber instead of the vivid green, almost no light shining through them. Silence settled between them as they switched places, she curled on the passenger's seat while he drove. She grabbed a hoodie off the floor and wrapped it around his shoulders.

"It's cold. I can't have you getting sick too," she said quietly as she rested her head by his thigh, using the bag of clothes as a pillow. Her legs curled under her as she used her coat as a blanket.

"How much do you remember?" He asked her.

"More than you, probably," she yawned. "When we get somewhere safe we can talk about it, James."

"You're the only person who calls me that. I was called something else too." She looked up at him.

"Bucky. You asked me to call you James though. I kept calling you Sergeant Barnes." She laughed thinking back to the pub, her dimples showing. "You hated it. Told me to give you a chance, completely relentless."

"Do you regret it?" He asked, making a quick turn onto the freeway. She moved slightly as she got back up, placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning against his flesh arm.

"No. After I thought you died, I lost everything. In a way I chose too. You were my whole world and in less than instant you were gone." She thought back to his dog tags. "I found ways to keep you close once I came to my senses."

"You called me James in Vietnam, it helped me start remembering. They had sent me after you, hoping that they could recreate you." He looked back to Millie through the rear view mirror. "They couldn't keep you contained enough to experiment so they decided that maybe a mixed offspring would be easier to handle. Keep you in cryo after the birth where you'd stay put."

"I killed the men," she said in a daze. "I remember Millie being born, you were screaming."

"I was in between wipes, they were going to put me in cryo. But I heard you screaming and crying, heard her crying her first breaths. I remembered what they made me do to you. I knew she was mine."

"I knew it was you. I let you," she gulped her coffee, her fingers tracing designs on the cup," take me. I didn't want them to hurt you anymore. I always felt too guilty about letting you go on that mission then when I saw what they had done to you. You weren't going to suffer anymore if I could stop it." He nodded in understanding, her lip was quivering a little.

"I think the machine's effectiveness wears off the more the user's conscious. Something with brainwaves maybe. When I heard you two. It just came over me that I had to protect you. Both of you."

"They put me in cryo after. Defrosting me for a mission or to contain the experiment, Millie. I saw you in cryostasis. It was familiar, I had seen you in one before."

"In Austria, the Red Skull and Zola had done it after I tried to escape. You saved me then too." She told him, looking down at her cup.

"I wanted us all to escape. The snow came down as I opened the door, they had started an avalanche hoping we wouldn't be brave enough to run away. You were already out when they started the bomb, the snow carried you away."

"I remember that," she said, pulling pieces of hair behind her ear. "I don't remember how. I probably passed out from the cold but I woke up in a hospital and assumed that it was all the chemicals I had breathed in during Vietnam distorting my memory. My body was completely busted by that point from the constant need to heal."

"They had used the machine on you too, kept you in it for weeks. You forgot who you were, instead of listening through you just got more aggressive. Most torture didn't work on you either." He said puzzled still.

She snorted. "In my early days of working for HYDRA, they had done a lot too me. I learned how to ignore it. Their predecessors had trained me too. It's why Rumlow couldn't break me." He gripped the steering wheel tightly, gritting his teeth. The image of him on top of her made him sick.

"You're strong, Genevieve. In ways people can't even fathom. You've been through hell and back but you're still putting up a fight." She laughed and shook her head in disagreement. She had almost given up many times, she wasn't what he was building her up to be. There was too much weakness in her weary body. She thought for a moment before speaking again.

"I'm happy it was you, James. No one else deserved Millie." He stared down at her for a brief second, she was watching the small girl sleeping in the backseat. His grip on the wheel loosened as wrapped his arm around her, she flinched slightly before melting into his embrace. Millie's small hands pulled at the blanket up to keep the sun out of her eyes, only to pull it back down. She could see them both leaning on each other through her squinty eyes, a sad smile on her face as she hid in the blanket.

* * *

The song from this chapter is We'll Meet Again by Vera Lynn. Also I fixed the date from Pink Elephants on Parade, this takes place in February not April. *cough* Winter Soldier takes place in April. *cough*


	46. Only a Day

They ditched the car, she stood in the middle of the barren parking lot. The station wagon was left down the highway. Millie was wrapped in her arms still in the blanket, a bag slung over her shoulder. James had two backpacks in arms as he hot wired a more recent car, that hopefully had heating. She had apologized profusely for not being able to help, her knowledge of stealing cars ended after the eighties. He laughed it off.

She hovered over his shoulder as he turned it on. He jumped up into the driver's seat as she huddled into the backseat with Millie. Her hair was shaggy and messy, lips chapped and her complexion sickly. It would take time to fix that but at the moment it would draw too much attention. She turned to a small store in the corner of her eye, hopping out of the van.

"Where are you going?" He asked as she passed his rolled down window. She shushed him, looking at Millie through the tinted windows.

"It's a surprise," she said with a wink. He got serious.

"We're on the run-"

"Oh, please we've crossed two state lines in a night. Make sure she stays asleep for a little longer." He raised a brow as she rushed over to the store, swinging open the glass door as she pulled her hood over her head.

They laid together in the backseat, a pink plastic bag hidden behind Genevieve's back. Millie stirred on top of her, she itched her nose only to see long red strands. A hazel eye peered down at her, she still wore her hospital gown as she unwrapped herself from the cocoon of blankets. The heat was blaring through the van, coats discarded on the ground.

Genevieve pulled her onto her lap and dug her hand through a nearby backpack, grabbing a pack of wipes. Millie pulled away at the cold cloth.

"I know it's not the best way to stay clean," she told her, rubbing her face with it. "We'll try to find a way for you to shower."

Millie looked confused, she turned to James.

"Bath." He said trying to focus on the road, she nodded as her mother scrunched her short hair before brushing it out with her fingers. Millie sat on the other side of the seat when she was done, now shuffling through a different bag. A small pile of clothes on her lap.

They stopped to refuel, James had ran in to get the key for the bathroom. It was broad daylight, he didn't want to risk breaking the lock and being seen. Genevieve stood by the car, scanning the area as she filled the gas tank. No one had found them so far but it had only been a day. She wanted to keep it that way. He walked back with Millie holding his hand, her other hand fiddling with the rhinestones on her dress. She wore a hoodie, the hood covering her face. They were speaking to each other, she smiled up at him revealing the gaps in her teeth.

"Pretty?"

"Very Pretty, baby girl," he reassured her. A black van pulled into a parking space. Genevieve and James' eyes met as she jumped into the front seat. He reached for the hidden gun in his jacket as Millie got into the van, almost tripping over something. He watched them as he followed behind her. Genevieve hit the gas as they drove around the gas station and onto a back road. Her eyes stayed on the rear view mirror. Millie found the pink bag on the floor, grabbing a tube of sparkly goop and feeling pieces of hair.

"We should leave the country," James said, leaning over the back of her seat. "Ditch the car."

"At the moment I'm more worried about leaving this county," she retorted, holding the wheel with one hand and reaching for the gun in the passenger's seat.

"They're following us." Millie was staring at the van behind them, James pushed her head down and told her to stay hidden in the floorboards. He climbed over into the trunk.

One of the men fired out their windshield and began shooting at the back of the car. James kicked out the glass, shards flying through the car as he aimed for their tires. A bullets flew through the air as they speed up, hitting their bumper. It pushed them further as Genevieve took her hand off the wheel and turned to fire at them, her foot like a cinder block on the gas pedal. One of the men tried to jump into the back of the car but James crawled onto the hood of their van and kicked him onto the pavement. He put his metal hand out as they fired at him, his shirt was cut up as he neared towards the driver who was now violently coughing.

It jerked to the left and he jumped back onto the bumper of the car, latching onto it by holding the hatch in the trunk.

The van careened into a nearby ditch, a man flung the door open with his hands going around his neck. He was gasping for air as he hit the concrete.

"What the hell," he muttered as he turned to see if Genevieve had done it, she was wide-eyed at the small girl. Millie stood up on the seat looking over him, her hands in front of her. A trickle of blood dropped onto the seat from a cut on her nose. She wiped it with her sleeve.

"Bad men." She said quietly, her eyes watering as she looked down. He didn't know what to do as she stared back up at the man.

She pulled the car over by the black van, making a K-turn. They all got out, they would need to condense everything into three backpacks. Genevieve checked over Millie who held the pink bag in her hands, a brown wig hanging out of it. She wiped the blood away and looked for any other wounds, holding her close.

"You don't have to do that anymore, Millie," she told her. Her voice cracked slightly as she buried her face in her daughter's hair as James' arms wrapped around them. "It'll all be okay."


	47. Of Monsters and Guilt

TheLightBehindHerEyes: Millie was heavily inspired by Eleven. This chapter is the last where I think it's going to be such a strong resemblance cause they are different. If I hadn't watched Stranger Things and got so many ideas for plot lines from it I probably would've stopped writing already. Shes actually named after the actress.

* * *

They found a small motel where they could hide for the night. The way they had been traveling they would be New Orleans in a day or two. Genevieve handled everything while James hid the car in a nearby forest. Millie stood next to her, listening as her mother spoke to the elderly man at the desk. She told him a simple story how they were visiting relatives in the south when the man asked Millie why they were traveling.

"Bad-" She had started off before Genevieve cut in, the man's eyebrows furrowing.

"Bad family," Genevieve said, "northerners." She laughed a little, trying to break the tension. "Her dad's a New Yorker. Catty bunch of folk, gotta get away from it every so often." He seemed to believe it enough, handing her the room key as James walked in with his backpack. James walked beside her as they went outside and up the stairs to the small room. It was nothing fancy, it was outdated by thirty years with an old television in the corner that had antennas sticking out of the top. A small counter by the bathroom had a water kettle and microwave on it. Two large beds were on either side. They each showered, enjoying the feeling of warm water over their joints. Millie was surprised to see how it worked, her small hands holding the plastic knobs and twisting them. James, Genevieve, and then Millie took her turn, even asking to go last, still clutching the pink bag in her hands. The room smelled like pine trees and flowers, steam fogging up the window and mirror. Genevieve leaned against the sink as she pulled up her jeans, a towel thrown over her wet hair. She asked Millie if she had ever done anything like this by herself, she shook her head no. She sighed and gave a small smile, sitting on the floor by the bathtub. Reaching over the ceramic tub and into a small tray, she grabbed a bar of soap as Millie stood in the spray of the shower head. She turned her back to her as her mother scrubbed her, rubbing her shoulders and feeling the knots in the small girl's muscles. Millie leaned into her touch, slipping down to sit on the side of the tub as Genevieve kneaded her shoulders.

"Relax," she cooed as Millie rested her head against the cold ceramic and shut her eyes. "You're safe with us. No more monsters." The girl turned to her with a face that her mother couldn't decipher.

"No." Her mother muttered repeatedly something in a different language which confused her.

"Mah cher-" she tried replicating in a questioning tone.

" _Ma chérie. Ma chérie."_ She said in a soft spoken voice, looking into her small blue eyes. "My father used to call me that all the time. It means 'my sweetheart'."

Millie's eyes widened and she turned to her mother, pointing to herself then Genevieve. "More?"

"No," her mother shook her head, it dropped slightly as the stream of water hit her, the curtain opening more. "Just you and me are like this." She looked at a small bottle of shampoo and Millie watched it came to her, she did the same as her mother with the bottle next to it. Her mother placed them next to her as she began lathering up Millie's short hair.

"Papa?" The door opened slightly, James peering in but they didn't notice him.

"I wish, _ma chérie._ Your father is not like me. Or you. He might not live as long as we could so we have to cherish every moment with him. Just like I did with mine."

"Fix it." Millie said as pink bubbles slipped down the drain.

"If I could I would fix all of this. You, your father, and I could live in a small house somewhere far away from all of this. Be like everyone else." She murmured to her, she used her powers to put the soap back. "None of this."

"Wrong?"

"No, not wrong at all. Not fair."

"I'm a monster. I'm wrong," Millie said, her eyes looking up at the ceiling as her mother massaged the conditioner in her hair, her tears blending into the water. James sat next to Genevieve, his metal hand fell on her shoulder. She couldn't help but jump a little.

"Baby girl, you didn't chose this." James told Millie. He didn't either.

Genevieve was the only one who had. He could feel a darkness swirling around her. The ghosts catching up with her; maybe she was hoping to outrun them by running to New Orleans.

He couldn't say anything. He wasn't doing much better. The dreams became more vivid every time he closed his eyes, Bodies wouldn't stop dropping.

"There's nothing wrong with you," she continued. "You're a perfect little girl." James grabbed the towel off the floor. Millie shook her head and Genevieve turned off the shower, James draped the towel over her shoulders. She helped her over the tub, making sure she was covered and walked with her to the other side of the room. James stayed where he was, watching them.

Millie sat on the counter, holding the small pink bag, as her mother pulled out an old hair dryer from under the sink with the words worn off from years of use. It wheezed to life. She dried her hair, brushing through her short ringlet curls and took a small pair of scissors from her backpack then began twisting the ends and snipping them off. Small blue eyes watched as she took the bag, seeing all the small little pink cases and tubes.

"I thought maybe you'd like some stuff of your own, for fun." She bite her lip as she twisted open the tube of sparkly goop. "It might've been naive of me to think you'd warm up enough to me to want this kind of thing." Her voice shook as she spoke, her hand becoming shaky as she closed the lip gloss. "I've messed up, Millie, and now you- you don't see how wonderful you are. The miracle you are. I've been an awful mother and I don't deserve you because of it." She had never had children; didn't think it was right to force another person to live as she had. Having a child of her own was as new to her like freedom was to Millie. They both had a lot to learn.

Millie didn't speak, only watched with watery eyes as her mother brushed pink powder across her cheeks, the sadness in her hazel eyes threatening to spill. She grabbed a small blue dress and white short sleeved blouse off the back of the toilet, small butterflies were stitched in navy thread at the hem. Millie put them on as Genevieve turned away, rubbing her eyes with her hand.

"I want to make things right, _chérie_." James stood up as Millie jumped off the counter and turned to the mirror, she gasped and put her hands up to her face. She had straight bangs across her forehead that tilted slightly from the curliness of her hair, a soft pink hue across her cheeks, and starry flecks of pink glitter on her small lips. Her small fingers began running through her short curls that ended by her ears. She didn't know how to feel.

"Papa?" She turned to him, confused, her fingers pulling at the ends of her hair.

"Your beautiful, baby girl," he said reassuringly with a small smile, his features scrunching up as it grew, his teeth showing. It was the first genuine smile she had seen him give in decades, she couldn't help but smiled back at him. Genevieve watched as she turned to her, a somber expression taking over the smile her face. She would never match him in her eyes but she wanted to try to develop something to get close to it.

She gave her mother a small smile, her blue eyes softening. She finally looked like a little girl.

Their little girl.

"Not your fault, Mama," she told her, her small arms wrapping around her. "Didn't know."

She melted into her tiny embrace, glowing with happiness. Some of the guilt chipped away as she closed her eyes and hugged her, holding her close. James turned to them and chuckled slightly, putting his arms around her, his large body concealing Millie's. He kissed Genevieve's forehead, a hand wrapping around to cup the back of her head as she pulled away slightly.

"It's okay, doll. We're all here now." They could get close now.

She smiled at him, lifting her hand to run her fingers through his hair. Her lips dusted against his cheek only to pull back away. She couldn't do it yet.

He gave her a peck on the cheek. They needed to sleep, they only had one more day left before they'd be in New Orleans. He watched as Millie put the wig on her head, a small frown formed and she threw it into the garbage bin.

"You don't like it?" He asked as Genevieve left the room, she laid on the bed.

She shook her head. "What Mama did is better," she said with a small laugh. She crawled into the bed with her mother, curling up against her. He watched his girls lay together before joining them, Millie fast asleep. A hazel eye looked up at him as he draped his flesh arm around her waist, resting his head on the metal one. They stared, peering into each other's eyes until they both fell into a restless sleep.


	48. Almost There

Genevieve sat in the passenger's seat as James drove, Millie laid in the backseat with tubes and little glittery cases of makeup around her. The pink bag was stuffed in her backpack. It was keeping her busy during the long car ride. James watched her sleep, her hands curled around a blue tube with rainbows on it, as they stopped at a gas station. Shaking his head, he crawled over the console and took the mascara out of her hands, putting everything away in her bag.

"How much did she put on?" She asked as she walked over to him, her hair had become the kinky curls they naturally were and she had tucked most of them into a beanie, a few stuck out framing her face. It drew too much attention She chuckled noticing a smudge of black by her daughter's eyebrow. Her lashes looked clumpy and stuck to the bottom ones.

"Too much," he said with a laugh. "You should just do it." She shrugged, getting into the passenger's seat.

"She'll figure it out eventually, at least she's happy, James." He agreed on the last part, she been smiling the the entire time she had been fiddling with her little compacts.

"How old do you think she is?" She asked him as he drove.

"Maybe twelve," he told her. He didn't want the conversation to keep going in this direction. She didn't need to feed her self-hate, he wasn't going to help her do it either. What he decided to say wasn't much better of an option. "Tell me about how you found her."

She spoke of Loki briefly and how she latched onto the mental connection he had forged with Millie before she had been put in Cryostasis. She wasn't sure how she had done it but she knew and made it clear that without Loki the conversation they were having would have been nothing but a dream. His heart heaved as he gripped the steering wheel, he didn't want to know what she had been through. What he could have stopped.

He watched as she curled up speaking of the men she had tortured. The various methods; the bones crunching, the drug induced visions, how she dulled the senses til they knew nothing of reality. Only the captor without a face. She clutched herself, her voice low and cracking. She had hoped she would never have to go back to that place. The vengeance she had wrecked upon their houses so long ago. The vengeance she had never spoke about. It would always remain silent.

"Do you regret it?" He asked her, snapping her back into the present, as he turned into a small diner. She hiccuped before her face blanked completely.

"No." She turned to him. "You both are here now. I didn't think I'd ever see you again." He had never seen a glare as cold as the one she gave him now. She didn't even look human, a marble figure imitating the living.

She was changing.

He was silent as the engine shut off. He regretted too much and he knew there was still more to come when he went to sleep. She looked at him with an all knowing stare.

"It's not your fault. You're not me, James. You're human still despite what they've made you do." Don't let them have that too.

He walked out of the car, signaling her to join him. Millie woke as he shook her gently. "C'mon, Baby Girl, it's time for lunch."

The air at their table was heavy as Genevieve looked through the laminated menu. Millie's reading skills weren't very strong so she read out the descriptions for her. Bucky sat with his arms across his chest as the girls spoke. He was processing her words from before, the meanings behind them.

"Papa?" Millie said, slipping over her mother's lap to sit with beside him. He smiled down at her, grabbing the menu in front of him. He could fake a smile for her.

They watched as she wolfed down a stack of pancakes and drank at least a gallon of milk. James turned to Genevieve as the waitress brought her more to drink.

"We should stop her. She's going to get sick." His paternal nature was already kicking into full gear.

"It hasn't happened so far."

"Genevieve-" She shrugged him off.

"We could do that but we'll be in Louisiana soon," she said, giving Millie what was left on her plate. "There's a ferry we can take down to…" He nodded as she trailed off. They would be ditching the car very soon.

"We should leave the country."

"It'll be crazy in the city now with Fat Tuesday coming up. If it comes down to it we'll be able to leave easily. It's a port city after all." She told him, nonchalantly, as she moved closer to him. "There's still plenty of places to hide there as well."

"You've done this before?" He whispered back to her. She chuckled before hiding her mouth with her hand.

"More times than I can count. I can't think of a more opportune time for us. Everyone will be in masks in a few weeks."

"They'll know we'll be there then. They've always watched you." He half growled, she laughed. Millie was paying attention now with wide blue eyes.

"The first time I stepped foot on American soil was 1835 from a Parisian ship. No one knows this city better than I do. Where we are going I got after," she paused, watching Millie's reaction with somber amber eyes," my time with Zola."

The small girl returned to eating as her parents spoke, listening to bits and pieces that she didn't understand. Genevieve placed her hand over his gloved one.

"It'll be okay this time. I won't let anyone break us again," she whispered into his ear. He gave a small smile. He wanted to believe her words. Truly, he did but even he knew nothing ended well with HYDRA.


	49. Katja of the Northern Caves

TheLightBehindHerEyes- I'M BACK! :]

Purpur- Thank you so much! More Evie in this chapter!

* * *

A large man walked through the courtyard, flanked on either side by guards. His violet eyes roamed over the shackled men and boys huddled in the small space. Uncertain eyes watched, these children were crooks and thieves. Murders and the most vile of men, all in one space. He walked, eyeing each of them, examining them. He had blonde hair that was beginning to silver and had the body of a rusted warrior that showed through his aristocratic attire.

Years of war had tired him down, taken everything about his home and twisted all he had once loved. A wife. A son. All gone because of the Russians.

This would be his last time ever having to send people off to war. His new home was only a ship away.

The men flanking him asked of battle plans and which of the boys he wanted to recruit. He passed a small boy of five years old, muttering about how he was too young. Then a boy of ten, he would be useful after training. This lasted until night had begun to settle.

His weary eyes landed on the only child left in the courtyard. A small freckled boy with curling red hair that must have been hacked off with a blunt knife, his bright hazel eyes watching. He reminded him of his son, who had by mistake many years ago, had chopped off his blonde curls with one of their hunting knives. His wife had been furious and began coughing up a storm from an illness.

She had died shortly afterwards, leaving only him and Erik behind.

The small boy in front of him clothes were tattered and caked in mud that had began to ice over. He felt pity rise up in his chest.

"What was this one's crime?" He asked one of the guards.

"Witchcraft, my lord. He's a seidr. Hid in a nearby forest, spitting curses. A man from the village told us all about the horrid things this boy can do. " The old man laughed at the soldier's superstition.

"In this age people still believe old tales. There is no Odin, no Thor, only God." He shook his head despairingly and placed his withered hand on the boy's cheek as he crouched down. His tiny head trying to move back, small beads of sweat forming on his forehead and the older man put his other hand behind the boy's head. "Your lack of logic is not your only problem," the soldier looked bewildered. "This is a girl." Small red brows furrowed at him as he reached for a small silver pendant around her neck. It was an ancient language that resembled sticks to him.

"Katja," she said, looking up at him.

"Your name?" He asked, she nodded. The soldier looked at the older man. "Why are you dressed like a boy?"

"It's much safer than being a girl." He raised his eyebrows at her and gingerly placed the necklace back.

"Smart little girl". He looked back at the soldier.

"Lord Stormberg, what should we do with her? Send her to the gallows? Burn her at the stake? She's a witch!" The older man laughed and instructed the man to remove the heavy cuffs from her wrist.

"Katja, do you believe in witchcraft?" The older man had a twinkle in his eyes, holding his laughter as the man fumble to grab his keys.

"No." She answered simply, her tiny brows furrowing. Her eyes looked at the gun on the man's side, her eyes lit up for a brief moment. He didn't even notice as he tried to hold back a smile, the cuffs fell to the floor. He didn't know if grief was overcoming him .She looked up at the man in confusion, shaking her head The older man removed his fur capelet and placed it over her shoulders, he wanted to take care of her as he watched her rub her tiny wrists. His hand laid against her bright red cheek, the green in her hazel eyes shined through, almost blazing in the rays from the sunset.

It was if after so many lonely nights he had found the sun finally peeking in the horizon.

He looked back at the guard and then to her. These people would be the death of this girl. The man was clutching the sword at his side, watching them nervously. He dismissed him and warned of what would happen if the village touched the girl. There was no guarantee, he knew how this town had steeped itself in fear.

Her bright eyes followed the soldier as he left. Once the man left he turned to her, gripping her shoulders in his large hands. Small hazel eyes widened to saucers as she stood in his grasp.

She was the tiniest thing he had ever seen.

"Katja," he began watching her terrified face as she tried to pull away. He shook her. "Listen to me, I won't force you to come with me. I can't guarantee your safety otherwise; the people in this town won't let you get out of here alive."

"Run?"

"No, the animals will find you if the people don't."

It was brash, he never should have said it. This little girl would be the death of him. His voice became low. "Come with me. I won't force you."

"What do you want?" She asked, half in a whisper. There were stories of what noblemen had done to children. No one cared what happened to her but if she did anything in defense against this man she knew her chances of survival would diminish completely.

Being alone since the beginning had made her wary of even the kindest strangers. An older man with vivid green eyes had told her many years ago before deserting her in the frigid cold.

 _Everything comes at a price._

He said he'd come back for her but where was he now.

She wanted to go back to her cave and find her special stone, hidden under the small bundle of firewood. It had given her everything.

"Be with me, little Katja. I'll protect you." She tilted her head, questioning him. Making a face at him her own daughter would make at her years later. Confusion at what could happen and yet a deep seeded desire to want to trust another human being. She didn't want to be alone but she had her stone. The little red stone that turned to liquid fire in an ashen world. Did the man with the green eyes even see her now?

"Be my daughter."

She repeated the word back to him before nodding. What was it like to have a family?

He smiled ear to ear later that night when she crawled into his bed chambers scared of the servants who came to her, wearing a long frilly nightgown with a book in her small hands. She left a small maid her room, a silver tray thrown onto the floor with tea soaking into the lavish carpet, the terrified woman slumped against the foot board of a giant bed.

He wanted a different voice to call him that but hearing it from her small frame took away the pain in his heart.

"F-Father."

Her hands reached out to him, he pulled her onto the bed with him. They stared at the small paintings in the book, a pale woman with long red tresses pinning small flowers in her hair. He had commissioned this book from a french artisan for his son a long time ago, the edges peeling on themselves.

"Who?" She asked her fingers stroking the painted hair.

"One day you could grow up to be her."

She repeated her question.

"Lady Genevieve of Barbant."


	50. It's Time to Wake Up

Millie sat on a bench between her parents, her small head leaned against Bucky's shoulder and her fingers wrapped around her mother's. They watched below the brims of their baseball caps as the river went by. The van was deserted in a swamp a few miles north, the hood slowly sinking into the muk and surrounded by all sorts of wildlife. They had carried Millie on their backs most of the journey and had left their dirt covered clothes behind, quickly changing before heading to the ferry. Genevieve stared as Bucky closed his eyes and sighed, tilting his head upwards.

"How are you feeling?" She whispered to him, the palm of her hand against the stubble on his cheek.

"Like I need to shave," he muttered back with a chuckle. She asked if he was still worried and if he needed anything. Bucky being more the Winter Solider than the man she had known waved her off with a cold glare.

Millie stirred a little, her grip tightening on her mother's hand. The hood on her hoodie pulled back revealing her face, the sun beaming down on her pale skin and showing her freckles. She mirrored her mother, her hair almost turning red in the sunlight. Bucky pulled her hood back to cover her face. He swallowed slightly, watching as Genevieve straightened over her daughter's skirt with her free hand and tucked her hair in her hood, their skin grazing.

"She looks like you." Their eyes meet briefly when he spoke. She looked back down at her and shook her head.

"She's a little you," she laughed. "Just has my freckles and curls-"

"And your chin. Her hair's got some red too." She gave him a playful swat and repeated how she was his clone. The air thickened when she turned back to him, shade enveloped them as the boat went under a tense blanket of foliage.

"James," she began, biting her lip for a moment as her eyes darted away from his before returning a moment later. "How much do you remember?" His brows furrowed, a crease growing in between them as they scrunched together. She placed a calming hand on his shoulder, kneading it. "When we were in the car and you passed out you called Millie 'Millie Rebecca'. Do you remember who that is?"

"I did?" He questioned aloud. "I don't know." His voice was so soft as he repeated it a few times, it took her a moment to realize what he was saying. He looked so lost and confused as shadows changed, the boat leaving the cover of trees and the sun's rays reflecting off his steely blue eyes.

She leaned her head against his, feeling his hand reach into her hair with a feeble attempt to comb through it.

"We've both got some stuff we need to remember," she said before blowing a piece of hair out of her face with a sigh. "I'm here til the end." He gave a meek smile.

"I'm here too."

* * *

Frederick watched as she grew, slowly learning everything the world had to teach. He couldn't help the smile that he had every time she called out for him. It had taken a few months for her to come to him for her needs and even longer for her to call on the servants.

In the beginning he had brought, a harpsichord from the south of Europe and an instructor from the Rhine to his home, he could hear the gruff man instructing her. Occasionally she would sigh but he had made sure the man would be patient. Later that day an etiquette teacher would come and tell her how to walk, using a riding crop as a tool.

That did not fare well for the teacher. He had heard the sound of leather echoing in the alcove and a stifled scream followed by the sound of something hitting the stairs. Katja stood in a small blue gown and took a stack of books off of her head, staring at the old woman who had tumbled down the stairs. There wasn't any surprise on her face as he darted to check on the old woman. When he asked the redheaded girl what had happened, the small leather crop in her hands, she said the woman had tripped on the carpet.

The woman never returned and a younger, more easy going teacher was brought in. They had no issues for a long time.

She was his little girl. He spared no expense, she wore beaded crystal gowns of taffeta and Chinese silk. She was almost his shadow at times, holding the tails of his coat at parties and when visitors came. Her tiny lips would pull into a shy smile and she would disappear into the parlor to play her harpsichord. It was a breath of life in the old home. He watched her continue to flourish until the day the man from the cave came.

They sat quietly in the drawing room, reading lines from books back to each other under the dim candle light. Her hair had grown to a little past her shoulders in kinky ringlets as she laid against him in a flowy nightgown that covered her completely. Their eyes followed the small painting as her fingers trailed over the words under them. He encouraged her as she read them hesitantly until one of the maids came into the room.

She watched nervously as Katja shifted when Frederick got up off the couch. Katja recognized her as the woman who had brought her tea to her room. She had been avoiding her.

The little girl hopped off the couch and walked nervously, staring at the floor. She looked up at the woman once she realized she was staring at the maid's shoes. Her hands extended out.

"I'm sorry," she muttered into her apron. She wasn't a monster. Not like the man.

The woman patted her head of curls as she hugged her, the maid's demeanor softening but still not comfortable. "I didn't mean too."

"I know, little one. Hush now, let's get to bed." She spoke too quickly, scared still but Katja didn't notice it. They walked past the front door and towards a staircase, the little girl stopped watching Frederick speak to the man. The maid gestured for her to come up the stairs but Katja, in a daze, walked to Frederick her hands gripping the burgundy material of his robe.

The man's green eyes followed her, scanning her expression. She did the same as her brows furrowed and her nose scrunched in concentration, a small hand held out in front of her. She knew those eyes, hers became white as he spoke to Frederick. He looked down to see her hair floating around her face like a halo, her nightgown rising around her feet like a jellyfish's body. He flicked his wrist and a wave of energy hit her, making her fly back into the staircase behind her.

"Katja!" Frederick screamed as he ran over to her. She bolted up, her hand in front of her again as she returned the favor, making him hit the cold snow face first. Katja raised a hand, telling him to stay back.

"Go. I'll be okay," she muttered and leaned against the railing of the stairs. His footsteps echoed as he ran away from the scene, the hooded man rose up his face now revealed. His wavy black hair surrounded his gaunt face and bright green eyes as the torn hood fell around his shoulders. The sound of metal and leather hitting each other from under his cloak danced through the air as he walked.

"You ran away," he asked with an unreadable expression. She backed up into the staircase as if she was trying to disappear into it. He put his hood back up and grabbed her arm, holding her up against his hip. "There was no need to fight me. I was concerned when you weren't at the cave and all I could find were bodies and blood. But not yours."

"Heimdall could have found me if you would let him," she retorted. He shushed her and placed his thumb on her lip. Her eyes stared into his in skepticism.

"None of the matters now," he began and placed his thumb against her forehead, her head slouched back and her eyes rolled back revealing their whites. "It's time to forget everything. Forget me. Forget Asgard and Vanaheim." He moved closer to her shoulder as she reached unconsciousness, her eyes closing. "I will be back for you."

Kaja slumped in his arms and he gingerly placed her on the floor. His footsteps followed where the noble had ran. She could feel a hand waking her.

"Genevieve," Frederick said, " _Ma chérie_ , wake up."

Genevieve opened her eyes and looked down at Millie then at James.

"We're there," he stated, looking uneasy.

"Something wrong?"

"You were tossing and turning in your sleep," he said placing a hand on head. She shrugged it off.

"I'm fine, James," she turned down to Millie, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Come on, _Ma chérie,_ it's time to wake up."


	51. The City that Care Forgot

"Woah," the girl muttered at a marching band covered in fleur-de-lises until she saw a new sight, pulling on James' sleeve. "What're those boys doing? It doesn't look very...smart."

James turned, halfway paying attention until he realized that a group of college students, who had clearly drank more than their fill, were trying to take off their pants. He immediately put a hand over her eyes and pulled her away.

"Don't you look at stuff like that," he scolded, getting a pout from her in return. This city was way too distracting for him to look for possible threats and trying to keep Millie from seeing more than she needed at the age of twelve.

Millie's blue eyes were wide as they walked through the city, her hands in each of her parent's. Bucky halfway dragging her and Genevieve trying to hurry her but at the same time trying to explain the city. The parades for Mardi Gras began two weeks before the holiday even started. Beads rained down from the balconies overhead and the sound of screams and beer kegs pooling down onto the ground flowed around them.

Genevieve pulled them into an alley as the crowds were distracted by a giant float of purple pansies and yellow tulips surrounded by green foliage in the shape of a tragedy mask. He pulled Millie into his arms as they walked through, the sound of trumpets blaring behind them.

"Your house isn't in this commotion is it?" He asked with furrowed brows. She speed ahead if him and grabbed his arm by the material of his hoodie. She was reading the numbers of the apartments on the adjacent street as they got back into the parade crowds. Millie grabbed a string of plastic purple beads from a young girl flinging them off a balcony.

She bit her lip before pointing to houses and reading the numbers to herself, "unless they changed the streets. No. The French Quarter doesn't have as much of the parade because it's so small. Just Canal Street."

He shot her a look. "It'll be harder to hide otherwise." She nodded as she speed up her pace, pulling her beanie over strands of hair that slipped through the knitting. They passed a slew of expensive homes and balcony apartments, people throwing money and fake jewels onto the streets. Laughing jeweled masks in deep tones stared back at him, mocking him in their jester hats, riddled with chiming bells. He froze momentarily, looking at the joy through the streets. The lack of care. Women pulling their tank tops down for plastic necklaces to be thrown their way. Children running with handfuls of beads through the streets with face paint smeared across their smiling faces. Millie put her hand to his face, the beads rubbing against his stubble. It was a small gesture, even when she whispered "Papa", that he smiled at. Genevieve stood at a crossing, gesturing for them to follow with a set of keys in her hands. Bucky jogged up to her as they ran through the quiet streets. She turned into another alley though this one was closed off by a wrought iron fence covered in ivy and blooming flowers.

"This is it," she said, yanking away the entangled flowers and opening the gate. They stood in a decaying courtyard, overrun with vines and wildflowers, a moss covered fountain that was decorated with tiny dancing cherubs laid in the center. Their curls chipped away and their dimples sanded away from the corrosion.

Millie shuffled down from her father's hip and ran up to her mother who was unlocking a large glass door. She touched the small stain glass designs that were embedded into it, her hands becoming an array of bright colors. Pink engulfing parts of her face while other areas danced with geometric shapes of blues, greens, and golds. James walked around the brick enclosed courtyard looking for any sign of HYDRA surveillance, his hands against the walls, feeling for any hidden wires amongst the vines.

Genevieve shushed Millie by placing a finger against her lips as she opened the lanterns next to the door. Bucky meet her gaze as she pulled out a small microphone, breaking it between her fingers.

They both scanned the dusty old house, pulling apart the lights and listening for creaking floorboards while Millie sat on a step outside the door. The house was covered in cobwebs, the furniture covered in white cloth. Genevieve went back for her once they were sure it was safe.

It was a large house, Millie walked through the foyer and upstairs to the two bedrooms. One door was locked so she went into the other room, it was covered in doilies and floral patterns. It just left old.

Bucky and Genevieve followed her, pulling away the sheets throughout the house and putting them against the windows' trimmings with some nails and a hammer.

Genevieve walked to a store while they cleaned what they could. Bucky went to the basement door only to find it was locked.

"Another locked door?" She said to him. "Mama took her keys."

"She did." She looked up at him and then to the door. "Don't. Don't even ask, Millie."

"But- Papa-"

"No."

"You can open it," she held his metal hand. He kept shaking his head throughout her persistent asking until she fell asleep on the couch, dropping a dirty rag on the floor. Bucky took a jacket out of his bag and placed it over her body, tiny hands held onto the collar and nestled in it. He sat on an adjacent armchair, staring at the basement door with his eyes drooping.

Bucky's tired eyes jumped to the red-headed woman as she walked in hours later with a bag of groceries and a bag of cleaning supplies. He saw her through the arch the connected the living room to the kitchen. She placed the bags on the counter and went to the basement door.

"It took you that long?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I scoped out the area." She turned to Millie passed out on the couch. "When did she fall asleep?"

"About an hour after you left," he replied, watching the key twist in the lock. "We need to switch the water on and the breaker." She called him over, explaining how everything except the water was off the grid and showed him how to use the generator which she had built herself using technology based off of Nikola Tesla. He wasn't sure about all of it but understood enough to use it if she wasn't around.

She grabbed a pair of gloves and a set of flashlights off the side of the wall before descending down the dark steps with him. They were both cautious as their flashlights shined throughout the hallway and into the basement itself. It smelled of mold as they went down until they felt dirt under their boots. The light illuminated a cage made of diamond fencing that could've been used for a large dog, Genevieve placed a plastic sheet on the floor and pulled out a cold metal chair.

Bucky knew what it was for and they shared a look as if to say 'I hope we don't need that.' She gulped down hard as she locked the cage and walked into a dark alcove surrounded by brick pillars; she pulled up a metal door from the floor. He watched as she fixed the generator as he switched on the water.

"What is this place?" He asked.

"An elderly woman lived here and needed a caregiver; there was an ad in the newspaper. I didn't know myself after everything that we went though. Bits and pieces," she pulled a string and the light bulb shot to life. "She died in the late seventies. Always called me an 'old soul' during the years I cared for her. I mean really," she grimaced, pinching the bridge of her nose. He laughed at that. They walked back up the stairs, locking the door behind them and then to the second floor were the bedrooms where. She opened her bedroom door. He felt like he was walking back in time. The white curtains, books in piles, dried herbs lining the windows. She leaned against the table in the middle of the room.

Even a small furnace in the corner of the room under a window. He saw there were no battle plans, no Nazi or HYDRA insignias; there was a peace here.

The war felt over in this space. Her war was over.

He saw by the door a wall covered in sketches and photographs. She held in her hands a photograph reel, pulling the tape from the wall. It was old, black and white, and wrinkled at the edges. It was Bucky in his uniform and her wearing a white blouse and black skirt with his navy blue coat. She sat down on a wooden chair, reminiscing.

He pointed to a woman and asked who she was, noting she was one of the few on the way but more care had been taken in sketching her features.

"Mary Wollstonecraft," she said shaking her head in embarrassment. "She was my first love. A bit of an accident, really." He had a thought flicker.

"Then Lord….Byron?" He asked, pulling the name from thin air. She nodded with a smile that he didn't quite understand.

"My love life was full of aristocracy with different ideas than the norm. I did dress as a man until the beginning of the 1900's. Isn't too much of a shock." She sighed, thinking back on everything she could remember.

Her hazel eyes followed Bucky's frame as plopped onto the sheet covered bed, curling up. Grabbing one of her hoodies she draped it over him.

She switched the light off as his eyes shut, entering a restless sleep which she understood all too well. Taking his example she curled up on the armchair next to Millie, tucking her hands under her thighs and placing her feet up on the upholstery. She laid facing the back of it, her wavy hair flowing down as she chucked her beanie across the room.


	52. Of Ghosts and Fairytales

James never fell asleep, tossing and turning until he heard people stirring downstairs. He could hear Millie and Genevieve speaking quietly amongst themselves, the smell of ammonia hit him as he walked down stairs. He left his hoodie and cap upstairs, his hair flowed to his chin and his metal arm shined under the old fluorescent bulbs. She had almost forgotten he had it until he sat down on the couch, startling her a little and causing her to drop a bottle of cleaner. She stuttered a quiet morning and turned towards the kitchen before feeling his hands on her forearms. Then the soft cushions of the couch against her back as he placed her delicately.

"James-"

"You just relax. I'll do the rest of the cleaning." She sighed before getting back up and closing the bathroom door behind her. He could hear Millie upstairs getting into the many books of Genevieve's room. She was trying to read, he could hear her whispering sounds and trying to string them into words as she walked down the stairs. He grabbed a rag from under the sink and began wiping the dust away from the cabinets, keeping an eye on Millie as she dug herself into the armchair.

She was reading a fairytale of some sort from the words she had spoken.

"Princeeess….faaairreee…. " He corrected her in a soft spoken tone, eventually sitting on the arm of the chair and reading with her.

Genevieve stood in the small room, listening with a smile while she straightened her hair. Once the curls turned into silky straight strands of fire, falling midway to her back she put everything away and slid against the wall. She leaned against the bathroom door listening to the two of them once she was finished, sitting on the stark white tile. Slowly, she cracked the door and watched for a brief moment. They had moved to the couch, following the words with their fingers. Millie was leaning against his arm that was wrapped around her shoulder. James seemed there when her eyes turned to him to ask a question or to see his reaction to her pronunciation but he wasn't there. Not completely anyway.

She opened the door and sat next to Millie, her hand on his arm. They sat together for a little while, reading together. One of them would run upstairs to grab another fairy tale. James realized that most of the books were old and worn, many written in French.

 _Fairer-than-a-Fairy, Beauty and the Beast, Little Red Riding Hood, The Imp Prince….._

Genevieve stared at one hidden beneath the pile with its painted little pictures and maidens of red curly hair. The sunlight hitting it and making the golden lettering glitter and washing her face in a warm hue. She placed her hand on top of the book, feeling the divots in the embossing, the gold flaking on her fingertips. The dream she had on the ferry had stitched it's way into her mind. What had the man done to Frederick? She knew who he was from those piercing greedy eyes. What role had he played in her life?

"Mama!" Millie cried out from downstairs, making James laugh. "Did you find a book yet?"

"She's getting impatient, Evie!"

 _Evie….Genevieve._

Katja. Loki.

She shook her head and grabbed a different book, halfway running down the stairs. "I'm coming, cherie!"

Taking her placed on the couch she handed him the book.

" _A Book of Mermaids_ ," he muttered, putting his thumb to his lip and nodding in approval. "It's a welcome change from the fairies."

Genevieve turned to him with a look, shaking her head. "There's more fairies." He groaned and looked at the time on the small radio on the end table beside him.

"There's always fairies," Millie muttered, feeling the glitter on her cheeks from another over application of makeup. Genevieve look at James and then the clock.

"Well, it seems to be bath time," she told the girl, who was midway through a yawn. "Then dinner and bedtime."

* * *

They watched as she crawled into the bed, wrapping herself in the clean sheets. James tucked her in, kissing her on the forehead. Genevieve followed his lead, she went to turn off the bedside lamp but James stopped her when Millie pulled her body back up.

"You can turn it off when you're ready," he told her as she crawled back under the sheets. "Call us if you need anything." Quietly, they closed the door and went down the stairs. She walked in the dark kitchen, the deep wood of kitchen reflecting the lights from outside as she grabbed a saucepan from one of the cabinets. Her eyes squinted as he flicked on the light switch, she placed a hand in front of her eyes.

"Oatmeal?" She asked, blinking a few times. "I'm gonna clean out the basement. There should be more junk down there." He sat down at one of the stools in front of the island, asking what she meant. Appliances for the kitchen, an old bike, blankets, clothes…..

They ate, not making eye contact or speaking. He followed her down the eerie steps again.

He said to not bother bringing everything out, not knowing how long they might stay in this home. She pulled out the bicycle, taking it up to the living room.

"Something we can teach Millie," she said as she cleaned it off in the living room, it leaving against the old box television. He went through a box she had pulled out; blankets, heavy clothes, first aid kits, and thermoses were haphazardly thrown in it. Another box of clear jars of dried herbs.

"These will be useless," he started.

"They're for you. Actually," she almost hissed. "Valerian to get you to sleep, cleavers to reduce the swelling around your arm, angelica for appetite loss….Should I continue?"

He just stood there with his mouth slightly agape.

"Some of them will be good for Millie too. Turn the Valerian and lavender into a tea. Maybe."

"Why not just use your powers?" He asked, she turned to her palms. Her eyes flickered again and again like a candle. A soft hymn sang and then dissipated with each attempt. Her face floated and fell down with each song.

"I can't use them much more I don't think." She spoke in a soft tone.

"You don't think?" He moved closer to her his hand denting the box of the television as he closed in.

"I don't need them," she muttered, moving his hand away from her face. Her eyes lingered on his as she got closer to his face, their noses almost touching. "It's only for emergencies now."

"What constitutes as an emergency?" He half whispered with his breath ghosting over the shell of her ear as they heard Millie walking above them to the bathroom next to the staircase.

"If either one of you are in danger." She replied, her head leaning against his metal shoulder. The coolness of it relaxing her.

"And yourself?" His eyebrows furrowed and fear washed over his face as he turned his face to hers.

"I'll be fine regardless of my powers." She sat upright, "But I wonder if…" Her hands reached out for his and placed them on the sides of her own.

"Is this an emergency?"

"No, an experiment. I don't want Millie in my head," she closed her eyes, "she's seen enough horror for being so young. I trust you enough to let you dig in there."

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "You can't sleep well either."

She let out a sarcastic laugh. "Who can anymore?"


	53. Come to Bed

It felt like falling through smoke as he opened his eyes. He felt like he was in someone else's body, red curls on the sides on his vision, and small feminine hands were now his. A delicate dress, a tightness in his lungs. A book written in French in his now small hands, lacquered nails glinting in the sunlight. A man walked up to him- more precisely Genevieve. He spoke in French. James could hear a sight giggle.

 _I remember him, Gustav, his family owned territory by Normandy. Sweet but not very interesting….Always fumbling over his words._

 _So these are your memories?_ James asked the faceless voice. Genevieve replied.

 _What I remember anyway. I was sixteen by this time I believe. He was my first courtship, much older but also very boring._

 _That seems normal. Too normal for you, Genevieve._

 _Normal is perspective. Young people don't want that. I never did._

The man fumbled over his words, long hair tried haphazardly back with ribbon. Gustav never made eye contact, preferring to stare at his hands or her book. The way his eyes, lingered on the book in confusion showed why the courtship was never finalized.

"' _Perfect numbers like perfect men are very rare."'_ She giggled.

He didn't know how to take that as the smoke took over. Now she was younger, training with a sword. Sweat fell from her forehead like raindrops. The thin sword was almost a long needle. The instructor kept swinging, every lash did nothing to end her resolve.

 _You had said once before you were raised to be a man._

 _Frederick tried both sides of the coin, in the end- after many bad courtships, I choose to become one permanently. In the long run as a known woman I would've never lived this long._

He watched the memories she had uncovered on the ferry. From Loki to the Red Stone and Frederick. She explained how this was new to her. It was all a whirlwind. A bunch of small puzzle pieces thrown at her.

 _So...should I call you Katja now?_

 _I haven't decided….I don't know what's real right now._

It didn't seem right, the weight of a large breast plate bearing him down, cold steel against the nape of his neck. This body paced the top of the fort, watching from below with an elderly man at it's side. His hair was pure white with the most intense blue eyes.

James knew who this was- Frederick. He wore similar attire to Genevieve. They stared down the ramparts to a man on the the otherside. His hair was short and wispy, his face sagged and pulled against the bone holding it up though it still carried strength to it. He was worn down from war but still understood the need for it.

"It's a bluff," she muttered to him. "They won't kill him." He grunted in return.

"The duke is too valuable to kill. He recently married one of the ladies in court- it would be a pity to waste him so soon into the battle."

James watched though her eyes as a new banner was waved. He knew it too well.

The red skull with its tendrils shooting against the black foreground. They had destroyed both their lives. Genevieve walked the earth in search of repents while he screamed into the endless void of faceless victims.

The last thing he saw was a man with slicked back black hair and green eyes. They showed kindness and remorse as she walked away from him. His thin lips pulled into a sad smile.

"Lady Genevieve," a small voice said.

He felt his mind being pulled back to reality, when he opened his eyes he saw Genevieve. Sweat stuck her hair to her face as she panted. She leaned back and ran her hands against her face.

"What's happening to me," she muttered in between breaths, her hands covering her face. Her hands had shriveled and patches of her hair had turned white. James grabbed her hands and tried to brush the hair out of her face with the other. Her skin had darkened covered with little specks and drooped as she cried.

"Evie, it's okay." He said to her in a small voice. "There's nothing wrong." He chuckled at a thought which caught her attention." What? You look good for three hundred." Her eyes widened for a moment with small tears pooling in the corner and her mouth widened before she cracked a smile.

He stared in amazement as her skin returned to normal and all the white that was left was a streak on the right side of her face as she laughed back.

"That's my best girl."

"You're getting sweet on an old lady, Buck." He shook his head as he lead her to the bathroom. She covered her face with her hands again as he rubbed her shoulders.

"I don't see an old lady." He said, leaning down to her ear. "I remember a woman from a tiny pub with short hair who hated British food. Prettiest person I've ever meet." She was quiet now and he placed her hands in his, slowly moving them down to her sides. Her eyes were shut and her face pushed into her hair.

"We have a beautiful daughter who's just like her mother. "

"She's-" She began, opening her eyes but not looking in the mirror.

"Got the cutest curls, bright eyes, a quick temper, and an obsession with fairytales." He nudged her face to look at it. She smiled. "Dimples too. Just like her mama."

"Everythings changing," she said in a hushed tone. "I don't know what to do anymore, James." He could see her getting upset again and scooped her into his arms.

"Keep digging. There's something there." He laid her in the bed upstairs and watched as her eyes followed him in the dark.

"Stay with me," she whispered as he grabbed the doorknob. She stared as he turned around. "It's dark."

"I'm here as long as you need me, doll."

"Come to bed."


	54. The Seine

I'm back again! I'm gonna try to post more frequently cause I've got some fresh ideas to get us into The Winter Solider and to CACW. I don't like to ask for reviews but I would like to get this story critiqued a bit more so I can improve my writing and so I know what everyone's excited for. Thanks for reading!

* * *

She could feel the weight on the room on her chest, weighing her lungs down and making it hard to stand up tall. He watched her as she leaned back and removed her frock coat, her shoulders miraculously becoming slender compared to the blocks they had been before. Her hands went up to the ascot at her neck gingerly tugging at the knot with her fingers. Her flaming hair licked the candles around it, it was parted on the right above her ear and was wrapped in a silk ribbon at the base of her neck. Long red locks cascaded down her the right side of her shoulder and covered the deep emerald of her waistcoat, hiding the golden filigree embroidered into it.

"They think you're a dandy," he said watching as she swallowed a breath and placed her hands against the dresser behind her, leaning back. His green eyes looked almost hollow under the candlelight, his cheeks gaunt and thin lips made him look like a skull. Something raphaelite almost in its beauty. His black curls shined as his head bobbed while he walked across the room. She jumped up onto the dresser, sitting on it.

"A dandy is still safer than a woman," she retorted. "I don't even remember the last time I wore a dress. Such a bother."

"Such a bother," he repeated in agreement. "My brother once wore a dress." She raised an eyebrow. He rushed through the rest as she anticipated an explanation. "The sailors don't suspect a thing, you'll be safer in America I hope."

"Everything's been arranged, Thomas," she opened the window behind her, the room was so stuffy. The tension felt like breathing in bog water. "You could come with me, you and me, out in a new world. New people and new adventures to be had. Tell me about your brother and why he had to wear a dress." She said with a laugh, her eyes squinting.

"There's nothing for me there."

"I'm there, Thomas." She said, turning to him and hopping off the dresser. "We could spend our night's in the French Quarter then go to the tribes of the Iroquois in a fortnight, watching how they discuss the universe."

"What would Byron say to that?" He replied as her hands reached for his face and watched as they inched away.

"That was cold."

"It's been over five years, Genevieve."

"Byron and I had our adventures. He's dead now but I'm not." That was something she lived with every time someone pulled back the veil and got close. It took her decades to get pass lost. She never got over Fredrick or James. Byron took two decades of traveling the Americas and healing the ill to move passed.

"Adventures? You were a commander. Quite competent, one of the best I've seen." She chuckled. He had realized in the short few years he had come back that this was just the beginning, soon tears would fall.

"I never should have let him come with me." She could feel his arms around her.

He was so cold, colder than the snow of her home. He rested his cheek on the top of her head.

"I've never been good with other people," she leaned back and placed a small kiss on his cheek with a small smile on her face. His large hand laid on her shoulder. "It was fever that took him, not you."

She gazed at his vivid green eyes and watched the lights in the room make them flicker, her fingers ghosted over his cheek. He wanted to say something to break her stupor but her thumb drifted over his bottom lip, stopping him.

"There's something so familiar about you," she said, drawing out the 'o' sounds. "I just can't place it." He gave a quick chuckle, grabbing her wrists and pulled them down, closing the space between them. It was a long, winded kiss with their hands grabbing at their clothes. Thomas' jacket, her waistcoat, and so on they shuffled onto the floor; loud antiqued buttons hitting the hardwood. His gold pocket watch wrapped itself around her fingers when she tried to take his waist coat off. She whipped her wrist in the air and his head sprung up from where he had traveled, leaving small kisses against collar bone.

His curls ruffled as he looked down at her, his mouth slightly agape. He was lean and muscular, his arms still showing that he had spent much of his life training. They stared for a minute before she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him back down to her lips. Fingers tugged at the tails on the sides of his shirt and the waistband of his pants. He grabbed her hands again, her brows furrowing a bit. She looked like a child who had their favorite toy taken away.

There was a guttural noise from his chest as he pushed her small frame onto a wooden chair on the side of the room. Her chest heaved with every breath as her eyes dilated, focusing on his. Her arms were placed behind her on the back of the chair, her shirt slid down revealing her chest and down to her belly button; her breasts were bound with gauze and her pants and shoes still on. He bent down, slowly removing her boots while his other hand laid on the inside of her thigh almost kneading the flesh as he pulled the shoe away. Her body almost slid down in an attempt to push his hand up further. He laughed.

"Patience," he whispered in a deep tone. Her hands grabbed a knot at the underside of the gauze, lopping a finger in and removing them. He stepped back watching as her curls fell to the front covering one side while the other breast slid as the linen shirt pulled back. She stood up as he removed the braces from his pants, and pulled his shirt over his head, making his hair becoming more disheveled. His pants fell to the floor. Her fingers wormed their way under the criss-cross strings of her pants, tugging the strings with her fingers and watching as they slid down.

He sat her back down on the chair, his hands tickled the skin of her thighs as he kneeled in front of her.

"Thomas.." She muttered, her head against the back of the chair as her behind slumped off of it and he put her legs over his shoulders. His breath against her as his hands grabbed her backside and squeezed, hearing a quiet moan. One of his hands slipped between and rubbed against her, she rocked with his fingers mewling with each stroke.

His head dipped lower, giving firm swipes with his tongue and probing between them with flicks against her core. Her hands reached for his hair pulling him closer to it, whispering.

Please.

She said it under her breath as he continued, she stopped once one of his fingers moved near her entrance. He watched her gasp as it slipped inside. Thomas didn't wait much longer as he accelerated his pace, she nearly squirmed off the chair.

He grabbed her hips, taking away the pleasure as he pushed her against the bed covers. His impatient hands yanked the shirt away from her bottom half as he positioned himself against her, entering with one harsh thrust. She sucked in a breath, arching against him as he rocked back and forth, hitting that one spot. He held one of her hands as the other sank downward, trying to rub the swollen bud in between his thrusts. He kept up his momentum, . going faster as she moaned his name incoherently. His head leaned down and he slowed for a moment.

"Please," he commanded in a gruff tone, panting as he slid in and out. She gazed up under hooded eyes and a thick veil of pale lashes.

"Plea-se," she spoke, amongst his plunges. Her body shot up each time to meet with his as his other hand grabbed hers, his head leaning down to kiss her. He missed her lips and meet her jaw instead, leaving a flurry of sloppy kisses as she moaned his name. She turned her head to meet his lips, kissing one last time. He slid out and fell to her side, his hand on her hip.

They caught their breath, they could hear people from the tavern across the street. It felt like the world had stopped as they laid there, hearing the drunk ramblings of people outside. They giggled to each other. His green eyes blazed with warmth as he smiled.

It was nothing like their time in New York, his eyes weren't that sickening shade of blue. There was no scepter to cloud his judgement, no stress of the Other peering over his shoulder.

Things could've been different if those nights were like the last one they had spent on the Seine.


	55. Run

The feeling of grit and grime covered her as she biked through the streets, a friend she had made held onto her shoulders. He could barely breath with everything he had just seen, Millie could barely see too with the river of tears flooding her vision. It hadn't even been an hour ago when her mother strode into her room with a small backpack and collected her things.

"We're traveling to Europe," her father said gruffly with his arms crossed, his face clean shave and hair reaching down to his shoulders. He muttered something to Genevieve about needing a haircut soon.

They had spent two months in this house. She didn't want to leave.

"But-" she began, "I have friends now. I'm supposed to go to the park with Flynn and Caleb." She tried to grab her bag from her mother. They had never mentioned leaving. She finally had a life here.

"This isn't up for debate." James tossed her bag over his shoulder. "Grab anything you want to keep. We'll be down stairs." He wished now he had gotten a better look at her, the soft ringlets that were beginning to cascade over her shoulders, the tan she had gotten from learning how to bike with them and how it had made her even more freckled than before. She looked even more like him with her thick straight eyebrows and the way her lips curved when she smiled.

They had to still be alive. Her mother had grown weaker she had sensed it, after trying to hold the men back from her. James tried to fight them but they were outnumbered, soldiers swarmed in like locust. The gears in his arm whirled as he fought, his eyes never leaving their frames. They had screamed at her, telling her to leave. Genevieve grabbed her daughter and kicked a backpack out the door.

"Leave," she panted," get on the bike, change your clothes once you're safe. " A solider turned to hit her and her grabbed his vest and flung him onto the counter, punching him. She wasn't sure what to do as her mother began kicking another's gun out of his hands and grabbing the frying pan off the stove, hitting him with it. Her face contorted and her hair whipped around her face wildly as she fought back. It looked like they were winning. She could see her mother's eyes flickering as she flung the men back, a soft hymn following every move.

Her eyes widened when the light shut off, her hair fading into streaks of silver. James reached for her as a bullet flew through the air, hitting her. He jumped over the couch

"Mama!" She shrieked, blood splattering onto the floor and her clothes. A streak hitting her cheek. She turned to her father, who had her body hanging limply in his arms. He held onto her and grabbed for Millie, holding her to him. He looked into her eyes for a brief moment before pushing her down the front stairs and onto the fenced alcove.

"I'm sorry."

She kept pedaling, finding Flynn on the street nearby hiding under the bushes covered in a layer of sweat. His nose was dripping and his pants looked wet. He had been waiting for her at the corner when the men stormed the side of the house through the basement.

She didn't know where she was going but when she found a small convenience store a few hours later she ran inside, wiping her face off with the hoodie and ditching it in a nearby garbage can. Her knees were covered in mud and water that had splashed up the the streets. She turned to a still shaking Flynn. He was a few years older than her and about six inches taller as well. His dark brown hair matted to his forehead. She shoved the bag of wipes and cheap clothes into her backpack before jumping back on the bike.

There was an abandoned house down the road. Caleb had told them how it was haunted and how his brother had felt someone touch his neck when he broke into it last Halloween.

That had scared her before but now the living posed a bigger threat.

They were nothing but fairy tales now.

"We need to change," she said.

"No, no! We need to call the police! Your parents are still back there!" He half-shrieked.

She placed a hand over his mouth.

"Don't be loud," she whispered, "those **bad men** work with the **police**." She emphasized to him, reaching into her backpack and finding a bunch of wadded bills. "We look like a mess. We stick out."

"Wait- how do you know that?"

"Papa told me," she said, brushing her curls away from her face and counting the money. "Need to get clean," she muttered, looking him over and trying to scrape the mud off her jeans with the back of her hands.

He stared at her pink nail polish and the little shining stars in it. She looked so normal he didn't know what he had got himself into when they began to hang out by the alcove. His friends telling him how a new girl lived down the street and how they should try to talk to her, they rode their bikes down pretending to ignore her when she watched them through the bars. A man with long brown hair tried to lead her back into the house when she pointed to them while the red haired woman opened the gate and sat outside while Millie played with them.

"She's a kid, James."

"We can't take any know what could happen," he reminded her, she laughed, crossing her arms and arching an eyebrow.

"Little boys aren't gonna bring them down on us."

He sighed, sitting on the bench with her.

Millie and Flynn walked into the old dilapidated house. She slumped against the old circular staircase, wrapping her arms around her knees and curling in on herself. It hadn't been long ago that her mother and her had picked out a birthday cake for her father. They laughed when they got home, he was completely serious saying how he didn't want to celebrate until her mother had smashed a piece into his face. There was more cake on their faces than in the bellies by the time the box was empty.

She didn't even know where they were now. Sobs erupted from her chest, staining her shirt with tears. Flynn walked over and slumped next to her. He put his arm around her. It wasn't much, he had no idea what to do as she turned her face into his chest and wept.

"Millie," he said, watching as she looked up and tilted her head at him before the tears started again. He shook his head, choosing to remain silent.

She could feel metal encircling her neck, arms and legs. A heavy band across her chest as she tried to pull herself up. The sound of footsteps grew near as she inspected the room, it was cold and damp. It was the old bank from before, compartments lined the walls and a dim light illuminated the room. She squinted her eyes as she looked up.

Pierce walked into the room, alone for a change. His eyes bored into hers.

"Not looking very good. You were much younger last time I saw you," he said, shaking his head. He placed his hand on her hip where the bullet had hit her.

She coughed as he leaned some of his weight on it.

"The world's moving past the libertarian view of your generation. Freedom's too costly."

"You're a fool to think people will bow to you," she gasped, her voice sounded like gravel, rasping through her throat. "They wouldn't do it for the kings of my day." She said with a laugh, he placed more force down. She choked

"Freedom is what took your little girl away from you. You ran from them," he retorted, he walked around the room, leaning the table down so she could see him. "And know she's ran from you." He wanted her to know he held all the cards in his hand.

She knew that wasn't true.

"Take a good look, Genevieve." He pulled a metal tray from the bedside table. "Remove the shackles." He commanded a nearby scientist. She slid off the table and slowly rose up, her bones feeling an ache she had never felt before. The coldness of the collar never left. Her back refused to straighten out, her head slumping slightly. She wanted to gasp at her distorted image. The frayed gray hair and drooping skin, liver spots began taking over where her freckles had once been. Her hands touched her face, she could see the gleam in his eyes.

She wanted to snatch it away.

"I've always wondered what it felt like to age," she chuckled, using her hands to pull the skin of her face and examine herself. Millie was safe, he had nothing to threaten her with. They wouldn't kill James. No, not their prized weapon. "I look good for three hundred." His face soured.

He wanted to play a cat and mouse game with her. She had played one with Loki, she might've been the mouse then but she learned a few things. Her body slowly straightened, the lines on her face blurring.

She wasn't doing this, it was her body's last bit of energy. Her body glowed a slight red, the soft hymn fading as her skin returned to it's youthful form. This was the work of the red stone's magic that she had taken on accident all those years ago. The magic and her asgardian body giving their last bit of life. Her hair turned back to red except for a few streaks of thick silver. She knew everything now. Pierce stared in amazement as she stood up straight, her bones cracking as her hair grew miraculously down her spine.

"Looks like you've been cheated out of aging," he smiled.

"It's a pity for sure," she said, "but less of one than your plan. That's for sure." She rested against the cold table behind her. "People are not weak. Humanity is known for perseverance."

"Humans are changing. You know that and so do I. What we're doing is giving it what it desires and you have always lit the torch behind us. The shadows haven't done anything for you. You've saved a few lives but what has that accomplished?"

"More than what HYDRA has accomplished in the past century."

"We have your daughter," he replied, watching her anguished face. "She's safe for now."

She wrapped an arm around herself and placed the other over her open mouth, walking around the table. "Really? Where is she?"

He wasn't amused by that. He turned to the scientists on the side of the room. "Put her in containment after a dip in the ice she'll know her place."

She could feel large hands grab her arms as they half dragged her down the stairs, her legs barely keeping up. They turned the corner and there she saw a haunting vision.

Brown hair framed his face, his eyes closed as his head slumped forward with his arms held in place by metal cuffs. His skin was tinted an icy blue with frost covering the chamber. He looked too peaceful with his lips parted and his eyelashes speckled with snow.

She lost all her composure within that instant.

She flung her body back using her weight.

"James! Don't forget!" She screamed, hoping he'd hear her somehow. That her words would stick into his consciousness. Remember Steve, Millie, and her. Remember those nights in New Orleans and what had brought them back to this wretched place. The nights on that boat with their sketch book and poetry. Would he even recognize her when he woke up?

Would she remember him?

Pierce smiled, knowing that he at least had won that. She couldn't even fight back against the two guards holding her away from the soldier.

The yanked her from side to side as they pulled her into the door, a mask being shoved against her face. It was an oxygen mask. They walked up a set of circular stairs, looking at another tub-shaped container. She could hear the tubes being snapped together and they began removing her clothes. Rumlow's eyes watched her as they started putting on a wet suit of some kind. The look he gave sent chills through her body. Her hands pushed against them to no avail. This must've been what humans felt like against her. Outgunned and outmatched.

She could feel her body being submerged in ice water and the world went black around her. The scientists slipped away from the shadow around her, she couldn't even see the bubbles in the water anymore.

It was silent again, her thoughts running in the freezing water, the feeling of her hair flowing around her was the only sensation left..


	56. Rebirth

If anyone is confused about your chapter alerts don't worry, I just combined them into 55. I'm going to try to write longer chapters and make it a little more worth it. Also I'm considering doing a little side story of their time in New Orleans so if anyone's interested please message me or review! Doing the time-skip really got me back into this story.

* * *

Millie woke up to streams of light hitting her face, the sun going through holes in the wooden boards that covered the windows. She could hear the sounds of field mice chomping away at some snack food Flynn had thrown across the room the night before. He was still sleeping on the floor, his bangs in his face and his ocean blue polo covered in dirt and snot. She turned to him, reaching out before pulling back.

She stood up and grabbed some clothes out of her bag, rubbing her face and body with the baby wipes before throwing on a summer dress and slipping into her hi-top glittery sneakers.

Millie had to look normal to blend in, she couldn't be covered in dirt and tears. She knew that and could hear her parents saying it too, in her head.

She looked into a broken mirror, not knowing how to feel. She looked fine but inside she felt an ache. She could remember every time James had walked passed her over the years in between being wiped and how it hurt when he didn't look back at her. It felt like that but instead of feeling forgotten, she felt lost. She wanted her mother's embrace around her, to feel her fingers weaving braids in her hair and reading stories. She wanted James' too, feeling the machinery in his arms whirling as he locked her against his chest. She could hold it in, she had for years in Siberia.

She wanted to be made of sugar and spice like other girls but grit and metal had made her. Blood and tears.

Flynn stirred, yawning as he stretched and breaking her out of her thoughts. He was lanky and wore a broken pair of glasses, his messy hair making circles of curls around his face. His face hadn't grown into it's features making his eyes and nose small compared to his lips which made them look like a puffer fish's.

They were an odd pair. She wore glittery clothes and stars on everything, smelling like cheap strawberry perfume from the dollar store. It made James' nose curl every time she spritzed it in the bathroom. Flynn wore baggy pants that would never stay up on his thin waist, hand me downs from his older brother, he had said. He was already getting spots. If they had been in school she would've never sat anywhere near him, she would've been with his sister's friends and sharing stickers and flavored chap-stick. His friends and him would be hiding in the computer lab, messing with code and throwing Cheetos across the room to see if anyone could catch them in their mouths.

"Morning, Millie," he said, rubbing his eyes," hey, wait, when did you change your clothes?"

"Go home," she said to him. The look she gave him looked like one of a general commanding his subordinates. "It's not safe."

"No, I want to help. You're not gonna go out there all alone, are you?" She didn't think he was made of tougher stuff.

"I need to leave, Flynn, Mama said leave the city."

He looked over her. "You can stay at my house." She reminded him of the bad men.

"They'll hurt them."

"You can't stay here." They could hear helicopter's circling the French Quarter. Probably the city. "Let's figure it out."

"Ok-"

"Back at my place," he said at such a speed it took her ears a moment to register the words. She glared at him before nodding in agreement with a sigh.

He rode on her bike to his house, she held onto his shoulders. She watched the streets, her pink hoodie covering most of her face. He said her name getting her attention.

"What exactly did your parents do?"

"They never talked about jobs. I don't think they ever left me alone," she stated, watching as they rode past the bridge.

"They must have been like, spies or something. Like top secret information." She raised an eyebrow. "That was like a SWAT team."

"They were special." Is all she said as they rode into the Lower Ninth Ward. He lived by the canal, she didn't know what that meant exactly. It wasn't crowded like the quarter where homes had been built on top of homes. It didn't look nearly as nice as her old home with its overgrown vines and stone alcove with it's cherub fountain. This wasn't a wonderful place full of laughter.

She could see some of the other boys playing in the grass. Caleb rode past them in his father's trucker hat along with Mark and Felix. He was a heavier built boy with squirrel cheeks and tanned skin, pretty emerald eyes squinting constantly as the people he spoke to. They looked like they were always smiling. "Why are you riding **that** bike?" He asked, staring at the unicorn stickers. "I thought she was on permanent lock-down." He muttered, hiding his mouth behind his hand as he biked closer to the pair, hoping she wouldn't hear.

"I don't feel good," Millie muttered, clutching her stomach and gripping his shoulder so hard he winced. He pedaled past him.

"I'll explain later meet me in the basement!" He shouted halfway down the street. The world felt desolate as the wind whipped in her face, Flynn grabbed her hands and led her down the concrete steps into the dirt lined room.

The water seemed to lower in the tube as she was pulled out, hands grabbed at her. She took a gulp of air as the mask was removed. Her eyes wouldn't even open, everything was just so bright. The container had been nothing but pitch blackness. She sighed and they watched as red liquid spilled out into the air before evaporating. That was the last of the Aether she had carried.

A hand held her hair in its grasp, caressing the wet strands.

"You smell like saltwater."

"I wonder why," she retorted sarcastically, she waited to feel some sort of pain. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering. "Fuck, it's cold."

"It was ice water, Katja." She opened her eyes to Loki's green irises. She wanted to believe the care behind his eyes but the past came back. He wrapped the black suit jacket he wore around her, trying to show it through action instead.

"Why are you here? To watch them tear into me? Why not leave me here to rot like you've always done?" She screamed, recoiling back from him. Did he not remember New York? How he left her on Earth? He puled away from her too, holding a hand in front of his face. She couldn't fight back anymore.

She tried to get up but fell back down instantly, her shaky legs refusing to hold her up. Her body was soaking wet leaving pools of water, her hair stuck to her face.

"I've come back for you like I should've centuries ago," he said trying to inch closer just to see her inch back.

"I don't want your help. You're the reason I'm here!" She snarled, her nose twisting as she spoke and her brows knitted together. "I refuse to believe you are here to do anything but hurt me!"

"It's all I've ever done," he replied. "They wanted to turn you into a Norn and I hid you from Odin and Heimdall. I did whatever I could to keep you from them. Is that what you wanted to do for the rest of eternity? Weave the fates of others and not have one of your own!"

She blinked turning away for an instant. "I don't know what I wanted! I don't know anything because of you." He crouched down to her, extending his hand to her face. She flinched.

"I will take you from this place. I can restore you back to your former self, Katja. No one will ever take anything else from you. I know you remember those nights. " He placed a kiss on her head, holding her hand as she looked away from him.

"We can have more of them," he finished.

"What of Millie?" He snorted.

"She will stay on Earth." She placed her head on his shoulder and sighed. He must've won. Thano's scepter had blinded him in New York but now she forgave him, he thought. He could finally tell her about how he had been controlled and all his feeling weren't his own, at least when it had came to her. He wanted her to be his queen, she was the only Asgardian who had ever tried to know him. Even as a child, asking far too many questions. She had barely known the girl, Millie, there couldn't have been anything there. No feelings, he after all, had no feelings left for the man he had called father his entire life.

"And James?" She whispered, she could feel his heart stop as his eyes meet hers, he could see tears forming. He had made her cry so many times before.

"And what of your precious soldier?" He hissed, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her away to face him. It must've been the softest spot to prod when it came to them.

"You know my answer, Loki. They're my family and you will not rip me away from that. I loved Thomas not you." He pushed her away her head hitting the floor. She could've spun their fate together instead she cut through it.

"You're nothing but a human now. There's already nothing left of you for them to take! You're lucky I'm even here!"

"If there was nothing here you wouldn't have come back to find me." One of his lies finally came back to bite him. It stung worse than anything he had experienced. He should've came clean over one hundred years ago, she might've forgiven him then but not with Millie and James on the line. "You can't love someone you've never known!"

He stood up, straightening out his black suit. Black curly hair hanging down to his shoulder blades as he turned around, pulling at his neck tie. He grabbed her, putting the mask back on her face, his hand hesitantly grabbing the silver strands of hair. She had no idea how he felt. They had both never fit in, always being lied to but here she was, mouthing off the one person who had changed her entire life. He had given her a life and now one with him.

"Do you know what this means, _Evie_?" He spoke, mocking James' voice; she watched as a glowing light illuminated him, and blinded her. She saw Bucky staring down at her. He looked just like he had before the train in his navy blue jacket and short brown hair. She couldn't help the sob in her throat that pushed it's way out. He changed in front of her eyes to the Winter Soldier, black paint covering his eyes, the black mask concealing the other half of his face. The tube opened behind her with a hiss. "You'll become just like him!"

Water spilled into the tube, her hair flailing up around her as she tried to swim out. Panels around the cylinder slipped around, destroying her world again. She watched as he turned back into Loki, the lid closing as soon as her hand wretched itself out of the water.


	57. Farther Away

crimson .blood .witch: I'm happy you liked it! :)

* * *

James held onto her body as Millie ran, holding her under his arm. He could feel every labored breath, her hands on his forearm. Smell the lingering of scent of Millie's cotton candy body spray. He watched as Genevieve's hair turned snow white, her skin shriveled, the skin of her face sagged and discolored,leaving dark age spot where freckles had once been. They knew this was the end for them but they could let Millie run. She had been their world. They could do anything for her.

The last ray of sunshine in their world left, making everything feel of despair.

He wanted to hear her giggle on last time with him, that wasn't possible now. His daughter had to survive and have a better life than her parents had. He'd withstand the shocks and the cryostasis chamber if that kept her safe. They had brought this on themselves by keeping an eye on HYDRA. When Millie fell asleep they'd sneak into their buildings, Genevieve hacking the computers while he kept guard. She had been so weak but still used her powers, it's why she was in this state now.

It made them feel safe. Comfortable.

That was a mistake.

He had tried to stay guarded, especially when it had come to Millie, arguing against her even playing with the neighborhood's kids. Maybe those connections would help her.

Genevieve was pulled out of arms as they subdued him.

"Evie!" He could see Rumlow's face through the sea of SWAT vests, holding her unconscious form. Electricity zapped at his arm, shutting it down as he tried to swing his fist, only punching into a wooden cabinet and unable to move the weight elsewhere. He couldn't pull his metal arm out of it. The prongs of tasers hit his back, he rolled his head forward against the cold counter top and put his flesh hand against the counter, his body shaking as he collapsed. He wasn't sure how much time they had given Millie, he just hoped it had been enough for her to leave the parish or find a safe place to hide.

During the two months they were together he had tried to find himself, he couldn't say it had been a success. Genevieve had made him herbal remedies everyday before bed to coax him into sleep, used her powers when the nightmares seemed to bleed into reality. They kept the illusion of peace for Millie. He wasn't Bucky or James, just the Winter Soldier.

Once he had heard that song on the radio while they made dinner. Vietnam came back to him and pulled him back down that rabbit hole. He dropped the sauce covered wooden spoon in his hand and froze. She jumped back, shutting off the radio and walking barefoot into the sauce. Genevieve had tried to soothe him and he placed his hands around her throat. They could hear Millie walking near the stairs and Genevieve in an attempt to hide the pain from her asked her to find her a cookbook in her mother's room. It had given her a few minutes to help him before Millie ran down the stairs saying how there were no cookbooks in her room. Genevieve knew that as she rubbed her sore neck after he put her down and walked into the bathroom. He made eye contact with his daughter momentarily before locking the door behind him.

"Papa?" His daughter had questioned. "Messy floor."

"Yeah, Papa went to the bathroom to clean the sauce off his pants," she told her, "he'll be back soon. Why don't you stir the sauce until he gets back, cherie?"

He had changed into a dirty shirt from the day before after about ten minutes of fighting the faces and screams that came to him. He splashed his face with cold water before giving in and just taking a cold shower. Anything to keep himself distracted.

When he came out to see them outside on the alcove, plates and food waiting for them. Millie jumping up, her curls bounced as she stood on her chair to give him a kiss on the cheek when he went to take his seat between them. Genevieve was smiling at him. He could see in her hazel eyes the fear she carried for him. Millie didn't look at him like that, nothing but admiration shined in her blue eyes.

There was no escaping this. He didn't know if he'd ever see either of them again. He didn't know if he'd remember them after today. Genevieve looked like she was going to die any moment in Rumlow's arms. He could hear him insulting her as the world went black.

They put him in the memory suppression machine. His mind blanked completely and then shoved him into a tub of ice water. He fought back, breaking a doctor's arm and another's leg with his good arm. They deactivated his metal one with electric disks. He watched as they carted Genevieve past him, her body aged completely.

He wanted to hold onto everything.

He wouldn't forget he promised he wouldn't forget her.

Rumlow came back to him after hours of switching between the ice water and the shocks, a photo in his hand. James shook from the cold water that soaked his clothes and hair.

"Who is this, asset?" He stared at her in the tank with silver-red hair, her face a mask of freckles and her eyes closed. He looked between the photograph and the man.

"Evie," he said. He felt the man's hand across his face. Again they repeated everything, he couldn't even stand up anymore, being dragged from one extreme to the next. Rumlow came back again, every few hours.

"Katja." He pushed him to the ground, a group of armed men swarmed over and began to kick him.

"Genevieve." Rumlow grabbed his face and shoved it into the ice water before holding onto his wet hair and beating his head into the side of the metal tube.

Pierce came later.

"Wipe him and put him in cryo. We need to start over." He bent down to James' who laid on the ground. "We need the soldier."

He turned to Pierce with one eye open, wincing. Rumlow showed him another photo. He could see Millie from before. Her dull blue eyes and shaved head.

"Who's this?"

"Gone." He said hesitantly, reaching for the picture. That wasn't his daughter anymore, his baby girl wore enough glitter to shame a craft store and pink headbands to keep her curls back, smelling of all things sweet. She spoke of fairies and mermaids and unicorns. He couldn't have had a better kid. She was so kind. He smiled, HYDRA hadn't ruined her like it had her mother and him. She had grown past it.

They would never see the girl in that photograph.

Rumlow pulled it away, James' hand grabbed him. The man tried to recoil in shock as he swung his leg up and kicked the man in the face. His nose snapped to the side, blood oozing onto the floor. James' jumped up with one hand, kicking another guard and grabbing one by the vest and bashing his head into the wall.

"Fucking prick," he gasped out, grabbing it and forcing it back into place. They grabbed onto him, two men on each side as they loaded him into the machine. Anchoring it to his disabled metal arm before locking in the other one. He didn't know what would happen when he got out, closing his eyes he tried to relax.

He thought of his daughter and his Evie. He thought of the only a few days ago, wanting the last thought he might have to be a happy one.

Millie sat on her mother's bed in a nightgown, covered in a cupcake print. Her hair in a ponytail, her mother holding her hand as she used a tiny brush to paint her nails. They called him in, laughing. A television played in the background, Millie watching the movie and occasionally looking at her mother.

His head turned to the screen as he sat down next to to them. "Another princess movie?"

Genevieve raised an eyebrow. "Like you even had to ask." She looked back down to her work, grabbing a clear bottle with silver stars.

"Papa," she began, getting his attention, "can I braid your hair?" He flinched as her hand reached for his hair. He saw Evie had braided her own hair, it laid across her shoulder

"Sure," he said relaxing. She said her nails had to dry first though. They waited until the movie was over and he could feel her hands separating his strands. Evie reached for the little girl.

"Be careful you're gonna make Papa's hair knot." She cautioned instructing her on how to do it. Millie didn't listen very well as his hair started to matt. Her mother grabbed a brush, going through it

"It's all tangled now. I'm sorry, Bucky." She said, detangling it.

"It's okay, Evie." Millie tried it again on his left side while her mother instructed on the right, doing that side.

"Be careful, Millie," he laughed, keeping an eye on her. It took another twenty minutes, his eyes starting to shut by the time she finished.

"I did it!" She shrieked, jumping on her knees off the bed. She grabbed the small mirror on the bedside table. He laughed at his reflection, a braid on either side of his head. He knew which side was Evie's because of how perfect it looked compared to Millie's where hair stuck out in random bits and bulged out.

"It's wonderful," he lied, pulling her onto his lap. "Looks just like your mama's." He could see their reflection in the vanity across the room when he looked up.

Genevieve sat behind them talking with Millie, who sat on her father. He had his arms around her before pulling Evie into the fold, her laying next to him before he fell down with Millie, and sandwiching her between them. Evie kissed him on the lips and kissed her daughter's head, where her hair parted. Hazel eyes looked up at him, shining into his.

He felt a coldness wrap around his body as the machine turned on, his senses dulled as he fell asleep. He could hear her voice.

"Papa, can I put glitter in your hair?"

He laughed one last time.


	58. You're a Jedi

I'm going on vacation in a few days so this might be the last chapter for the next week or so. I hope I've posted enough the past few days to keep you guys entertained! :)

* * *

Light flowed through the top of the tube again, arms reaching to pull her out as the platform rose. It felt like a baptism of sorts. They pulled at her suit and she could feel eyes on her form as she stood, shivering like a leaf in the wind. She showed no fear as she stood up. It was like watching a queen walk among her vassals even as the guards pulled her into one of the showers. She stood there until the smell of saltwater passed through her long locks.

Being in that tube had given her time to reflect, she knew Millie was safe in her bones and so was James at the moment. Her head felt so fuzzy. She was given a hospital gown, like always it seemed, and guided to a cell with a white cot. She looked around, hands to the walls looking for anything hidden. It was bugged there was no doubt in her mind. A microphone and camera definitely. How many times had her and HYDRA sang this song and dance together?

She was underground, the feeling of the air told her that. It was musky and damp, might've flooded at some point the smell of mold lingered. The paper had said it was being torn down for, amongst other things, 'lack of structural integrity' but that had been months ago. That couldn't have been the actual reason, the building was fine, it just smelled like every type of mold that could be found under a kitchen sink. Her last cell must've been above ground, she thought as she sat on the bed.

Someone knocked on the door. "May I come in?" It was Pierce.

"You're asking?' She retorted quizzically as he walked in. "Odd'

"No, you're mistaken. Just a formality." A warning. "You are a woman after all, some care must be taken." She couldn't hold back her laugh. "I have a daughter you know.'

"So do I. Doesn't change what you are." He sat next to her.

"Our interests align, Genevieve, I'm surprised you don't see that." He sounded like they had been friends for years, talking over some beers while the game played. It made her want to crawl out of her skin. "We just want what's best for our children and-" He turned to face her.

"A better world." She placed a hand on her chin thinking and biting her lip.

"Have you ever read to your daughter anything besides _Mein Kampf_?" He ignored her insult. "Any fairy tales, Pierce?"

"Quite a few, actually. Her favorite was _Little Red Riding Hood_." She jovially placed her hand on his, smiling like a cheshire cat as she rocked.

"So is my Millie's. Full of allegories. I wonder though," she looked him dead in the eye," can your daughter still see the wolves after living with one?"

She felt her cheek sting as he hit her face. Her hand rubbed it, wincing, she certainly did not have the pain tolerance she once did.

On the other hand, she still knew how to break every bone in the human body. Grabbing his other wrist and twisting it until she heard a pop. He didn't even have a chance to pull away.

"Don't make threats you can't keep," she told him as he rubbed his broken wrist. "Especially when it comes to my baby." She eyed him as he tried to flex his hand only to wince. "You should put a cast on that, try icing it too. Remember, Pierce, some of the best lessons are taught with pain."

He regained composure instantly.

"The Asset know that and this time you will too." He said as he began to walk out of the room.

"Where's Rumlow?" She asked him,he smiled at her.

"Oh don't worry,he hasn't forgotten you. He's been waiting for you ever since he saw you the other day changing," the door bolted behind him. That's all that was keeping her in this room. She didn't want to think of what they had in store for her.

And now it was all they needed. She rested her head down on the pillow, her hair soaking through it. When she opened her eyes again everything was black again, a pain in the crook of her arm like a needle's point.

Millie stood with all of the boys around her, sitting on the floor of the basement. It was your typical man-cave with uncomfortable sofas and sports posters except for the ping-pong table that had been converted into a game board. She eyed the guns on the walls as her hands dug into a bowl of cheez balls.

Flynn had explained everything to them and now they argued.

"We can't just risk our lives to help your home-schooled girlfriend!" Felix screamed, his messy blonde hair having a life of it's own.

"She's not my girlfriend!" They were in a screaming contest now, Millie just sat there eating.

"The longer you argue the closer they get to finding us." She said quietly. "Like Mama and Papa." She didn't have anyone else to turn too.

"Wait, isn't there a greyhound station on Loyota?" Caleb interjected.

"I saw her house on the news," Mark spoke up now, rubbing his black hair with his hand. His mother must have put coconut oil on his hair, he had always said it made him itch. "Her parents were growing drugs in the basement. That's why there were SWATS. Don't you guys remember when it happened to Micheal? His parents went to jail and he went into foster care or his gram up north. Hell, if I remember."

"Hell if you remember anything," Flynn muttered with a pout, crossing his arms. Millie slammed her fists onto the table, shaking.

"Millie-"

"My parent's didn't do anything wrong!" She screamed at them before going back to being reserved. "I need to find them."

"We need to get her out of the city," Flynn said, "that's what her mother said to do."

"Well, maybe her Mama should've taken her own advice we wouldn't be here now," Felix rebutled. Millie stood up.

"Shot me with that gun," she pointed to one on the wall with a silencer on it.

"Look we know it's bad but you don't," Caleb began.

"I'm going to show you why they're still looking for me." She spoke calmly, Felix shakily pulled it down, jumping on a chair to reach it. Flynn was uneasy, she assured him everything would be alright as Felix checked if it was loaded. He had hunted enough with his father to know the basics.

Aiming was not his strong suit. He fired it off and watched as it ricocheted off off a metal lamp, going for Caleb's back.

"Look out!" The boy braced himself for impact but nothing ever came. Everyone else stared at Millie, whose head was cocked on her shoulders. The bullet whizzed around the room in an unnatural way, making little figure eights. Her eyes stayed on it.

Caleb stared in amazement before pointing to the bullet. "You don't learn that from being home-schooled, do you?" She shook her head.

"I just need to get out of New Orleans."

"The Greyhound Station, you could take a bus and go anywhere you want," Felix said, Millie turned to him. Seeing Caleb upset his idea had been taken.

She waved her hand infront of his face, his eyes blanking.

"I'm going to stop taking people's ideas and be nicer to people who are home-schooled," she said plainly with a smile. They watched as he repeated everything she had said.

"Whoa, you're like a Jedi or somethin'." Mark said. Felix whipped his head back and forth.

"Don't you ever do that to me again!"

"That's dope," Caleb said. She looked puzzled. "Now you can trick the Greyhound people. It'll be easy."

"Wait- Whats a Jedi?"

"They move stuff with the force and stuff," Flynn spoke nonchalantly. "Maybe after all of this is over you can watch Star Wars with us."

She smiled at him. "I'd like that." He turned to them, his eyes lightening up as he booked it up the stairs.

"I've got an idea!" He began rummaging through a trash bag, grabbing clothes and old shoes. "Millie, wear this. We we're gonna donate it but this is more important. Now no one will know you're a girl." He smiled, beaming as he spoke. "I saw this in the movie." She walked into the bathroom before hanging into a pair of beat up converse; a black hoodie with some red insignia she didn't understand, it was a cog, and a baggy pair of pale blue jeans. Millie took a quick look at herself in the mirror. She didn't recognize herself but something told her this was a set in the right direction. The group moved upstairs back to the front yard, speaking in hushed tones under the tree. She grabbed the gold bullet on the way out, examining it before putting it in her jean pocket. Flynn and the boys were a saving grace as they spoke of their ingenious plot to escape.


	59. This is Gospel

Sorry it took so long! Everything's been crazy since my vacation ended but I'll try to get the ball rolling again! :)

* * *

She stood on the side of the road with Flynn and the rest of the boys. It was getting dark, the sun making long shadows across the city. Putting her hood out and she walked into a nearby convenience store. The lights flickered on and off in some aisles as she looked for a prepaid phone, Flynn wanted to make sure she was okay and had talked her into getting one for each of them. She crouched down looking through for the specific one Flynn had said was untrackable.

She went to grab one before a large hand grabbed a different model.

"You don't need that one."

She knew that voice. It gave her the device as she turned to him. Curling black hair was pulled back and framed his gaunt face. Deep emerald eyes looked down at her. A part of her wanted to hug him, he was the reason she had been with her mother again. She also knew what he had done in New York and to Genevieve, who had caught the girl eavesdropping on conversations from the hallway.

He put her small hand in his and wrapped the phone around their hands. "You need this one." He stood up with a smile stretching across his face. "It was very nice to see you again, Millie" A deep laugh erupted from his chest.

"Wait," she went to grab his arm as his body disappeared, slowly fading into the air in a green wave. She paid for it and ran back to the boys.

"We need to move now," they all looked around as she put her feet on the back of the bike. "They're coming, guys."

"How do you know?"

"I've just got a feeling." More people seemed to walked through the streets as they rode. They put their hoods up. No one would know who was who. They all had worn baggy jeans, sneakers, and a hoodie. She carried a backpack full of supplies while they carried old school supplies. A black van pulled up behind them. Millie looked at it and then at Flynn. He knew what she was thinking.

It was them. "Take the next right, we'll lose 'em through the alley!" They knew exactly what to do as they flanked them.

"We can do this!" Caleb shouted. "Two more miles." They stopped as another van. Felix put his hand up.

"Wait, that's a different plate." She nodded.

Mark spoke. "We're fucked."

Flynn shook his head," let's go." They drove through the end of the alley and onto the streets. She could hear Mark whisper under his breath.

'We're clear, we're clear, we're clear."

"Keep going." She looked at Flynn's wrist, looking at the phone watch's map. "1.2 miles to go." Bucky would've laughed at her, the mini sergeant of the family. "We're gonna do this."

The next few streets were dirty and lacked any life but adrenaline rushed through every pore of their bodies. She could see the silver dog on the sign they were so close. Almost there, Papa.

Tires screeched as the vans began to follow them. They were getting dangerously close to the bikes as they surrounded them on all sides. "Get in front of Flynn!" She put her hand in front of her body and watched as the van in front of them began to make snapping sounds. The metal on the back folded in on itself and revealed the men with their weapons.

"Oh **fuck**! I did not sign up for this!" Mark hollered. She nudged her head to the side and watched the men roll onto the streets as she flung them out. The van flipped to the side, crashing into a nearby bank. Flynn careened into the next alley, taking the lead again. They could see them packing up the greyhound. 'That's our chance!" She turned around.

Rumlow stood, a helmet flung to the ground as he ran to them. "You'll regret this!" She put her hand out, wrapping it around his frame.

"That's one ugly doll, Millie." Flynn laughed.

"Garbage." She forced his body onto the sides of the alleyway until he lost consciousness before throwing him back into the street as they pedaled. Gunshots fired off behind them and she wiped them out in an instant with a flick of her wrist.

"Remember, call me when you're safe. Change your clothes in the bathroom on the bus. Maybe when all of this is over you can come back." He gave her a hopeful smile and she hugged him.

"Thank you for everything, Flynn." She could hear more men coming. "You'll all be safe, right?"

They nodded.

"You know it."

"Good, this is my stop." She jerked her head up and they watched as Flynn's bike jumped up from the back as though he had hit a pothole. She landed softly and changed behind the building instead. A wig covered her hair, a pale blue tank top and cut off shorts made her look like any other girl her age. Her old clothes put in a convenience store bag and were thrown away in a garbage can. She halfway danced up to the man in front of the bus. She had a piece of identification with her, courtesy of Mark.

A bright smile lit up her face as she handed it to the man. "Going to D.C. with a layaway in the Carolinas? WHew, that's a lot for a little girl."

"Yeah, it's for the honor society." He asked her if her parents knew. She waved him off and pointed to the scribbles at the bottom of the ticket. "Afterwards were going to the Smithsonian."

"Ok, Miss-"

"Daisy Brabant." She said with a smile. He laughed, this must've been her first time on a greyhound.

"Bag in the overhead when you find a seat." She found a seat in the back with no one else there. She wanted to squeal in delight, she had done it. She flipped open the phone as the bus took off.

"I'm on my way. I'll see you soon." She told Flynn.

"Look out the window." She could see the boys in their changed clothes, bikes thrown away. Mark nodded her off while Flynn waved sorrowfully. Caleb was doing something halfway between a dance and a jog as he clapped.

He walked back to the tank, she looked so peaceful as he pulled back the screen. Her eyes squinted as the light went through the glass. Bubbles leaked from the oxygen mask she wore. She watched him, steadying herself with her hands as she floated. He knew she wasn't there completely. Her hazel eyes were dazed, dilating as he walked to the top of the tank and pulled her out. He leaned her against the glass as he crouched next to her, her hands trembled as she removed the oxygen mask and throwing it onto the floor. Her head rolled onto her shoulder.

"Genevieve?" He shook her shoulder as her eyes fluttered shut. A scream pierced through the building and her eyes snapped open again.

He was hurt and she wasn't there. He was hurting and she can't do anything anymore. He was hurt and- the thoughts kept building. They were thunderclaps in her subconscious. Every one of his screams left her mind in ruin. She tried to crawl her way back up to her feet as she shook.

She didn't know if it was rage that had driven her to be this thing. Maybe her love for the long gone sergnant?

The dreams they had wanted for their daughter.

She knew she'd never see her again after this.

Loki screamed her name and brought her out of her stupor. Grabbing her shoulder and pushing her against the cold glass.

"Forget everything." He said, looking her in heartbroken eyes. "You need to survive this- with or without them."

"I can't just-"

"You must, Katja. I'm sorry for everything I have done to you," he looked down and away from her," but as much as I can keep playing this game with you…" He bit his lip.

"I'll never love you, Loki. There's too much hurt," she said with a shake of her head. "We can't go back to playing those roles. You're not Thomas."

He looked back at her, his face was stoic as he spoke. "And the soldier will never be James again."

A tear fell off her chin and onto his pants. He continued. "Millie will never be the daughter you want either. She loves you regardless. I watched her today." Her eyes lit up, his hands clutched her shoulders, shaking her. "She escaped the city and she's safe. Safe and sound." He couldn't help but smile, the girl was as tenacious as her mother. The joy in his vice was infectious, she wanted to smile back.

Another scream pierced her ears.

"She'll make it without you but, right now, you need to survive. You're no longer Asgardian and I can't force you to change back." He clutched his hand and gritted his teeth. " I wish I could."

"What would've happened, Loki, if I had become a norn?" He sighed and stood up

"At the time of your birth, the eldest had died so in the cycle of everything on Asgard the mother was to take the crones place and then you take the maiden." He stomped. "They would've had bound you to Yggdrasil and left them to teach you. Urðr they would've named you after your training and that's if they deemed you worthy- countless girls died before."

"Why'd you save me?" He laughed.

"You were this little ostracised girl, who everyone was too scared to even glance at. You had such an affinity for magic; they knew what strength you would carry. Even now I can feel the magic that pulsates within you." He grinned. "It's quite impressive."

"I can't do anything," he grabbed her hands together.

"Spread your fingertips, pretend there are threads binding your hands together," another scream, she shuttered to think-

"Katja, listen to me." She focused as he removed his hands from hers. "Open your eyes, little one." She did as he said hesitantly, small white strings formed as she pulled her hands apart. He poked the strings, his hand rebounding off of it. "Think of what you could do with this once you're free of this place."

She gave him a forlorn smile."Where was this Loki in New York?" He was so full of compassion. This had been Thomas. The Thomas who walked her down to the port and watched with a sorrowful face as she had waved goodbye from the deck. He laughed.

"The tesseract has many secrets," she furrowed her eyebrows at him. Answers would've been nice. "I will never be able to fix the bridge between us but I can help you now." He placed a hand on her head and pictures swarmed through her mind. She could see Millie on a bus next to Loki, sleeping against his shoulder, a blonde wig covered her face. Their little girl was so brave. It brought tears to her eyes, that fell as another scream hit her chest.

"I want to see him before I do this. One last time."


	60. Valerian

Thanks for the review crimson blood witch! :)

* * *

The machine whirled around her as they flipped the switch. Every muscle in her body screamed in pain, her mind snapped. A propaganda video played in the room. She could hear faint words in her sleep now. She didn't know what it meant. Everything was changing.

She'd never be herself again. Centuries began to meld in her mind. What had happened? She remembered the guillotines and the Bastille...but then mustard gas?

No, that couldn't be right. She didn't know when her throat had became so sore that she couldn't scream anymore. Her mouth stayed open in agony. Voices came and faded, images flew back to the recess of her mind.

 _Lady Genevieve, please fix me._

I did this to them. I let them do this.

So any people had been destroyed because of her. She could smell death, it made her stomach churn. It was all her fault.

I'm so sorry.

Stitches made of horse hair bulged out, needles scattered across the floor. Rum and whiskey as sedation. Blood and bile laid out across the gurneys.

 _Spill more._

She removed her waistcoat, the small pin glinting under the candle light. The skull and it's tendrils sinking into every corner of her life, festering. She used her nails and scratched her skin until bright lines appeared, bit her wrists until blood pooled on her tongue and into the breakers.

Fire purifies. She burned everything they had built, watched their joy turn to ashes. The doctor had told her to drink Valerian tea to sleep when the faces of the dead came back to her at night, cursing her for everything she had let them do. It did nothing.

 _I have a daughter_ , one had cried to her. _Let me go home!_

I was only a child. I - I didn't know what they would do.

You were a grown woman, over fifty years old. You knew and you'll never fix the damage you've done. They turned them all into monsters and you just stood there and bleed.

But I've saved so many people.

It's also your fault those wars started in the first place. You **let** them. The fist of Hydra.

The machine stopped, her chest heaved. She coughed and turned to the doctor next to her, he turned the dial and the bars clamped down on her arms again. It bolted back to life. She could hear Loki- no, Thomas?

 _I never meant for you to fix yourself._

They were different people, she thought. The shocks lulled them. She didn't want to be like this. A mess of tears as the words burrowed themselves in her head. Zola had put down the groundwork for them. She flinched every time they were uttered. Whispered them in her sleep.

She could feel the cold floor on her feet as they dragged her into a tank, her eyes shut tightly as her skin hit the water. His screams rang out, echoing in the water. She curled in on herself as she sank. It smelt like the ocean. Maybe they threw her into the sea to sink to the bottom. The weight on her chest could take her there. She wanted to swim away but her feet skidded across the edge of the tank, feeling cold metal. She felt so jumbled as hands reached for her and prodded. Rumlow had came back, flung her weightless body onto the cold floor. She slid into the wall, limp as a rag doll as he beat her. Her body was a collection of belt marks, knife wounds, and bruising. Screamed how her daughter had left his face bruised and beaten, broken ribs as he tore her skin and yanked her hair. Maybe that's why her throat was so sore? He had broken her hand. It rested in a cast at her side.

Wait, how long had it been? Time was sucked away here; days- weeks. Everything repeated; tank, shocks, Rumlow, food, and sleep. It varied, some days he decided sleep wasn't important. She stared at the yellow tray in front of her, picking at the bread. She wasn't hungry. Knife marks across her back made it hard for her to move her shoulders, the scabs burned as she moved. She thought of the man with the greasy hair. Rumlow had brought her into a room, the cold tank was there with the top frosted over. He nudged her over to it, her hands on the glass rubbed the ice away. A man was in there. His long hair hung at the sides of his face, thin lips were parted slightly as though he was permanently sighing. He had shaved the day before they had brought him there but now his face had thick stubble across it.

How did she know that?

They had spoken a lot before, through the orange clouds and under the tune of jazz. It was so distant, she couldn't pull them back.

"Do you know him?" He asked. She looked at him and then down at her hands, pondering. Rumlow moved in closer, craning his head down and grabbing her chin. He asked the same question slowing down the words.

"No." She said simply.

She had always outsmarted them, outran them; she knew she couldn't this time as he let the man out. They put him in the machine again and made her watch as they hurt him, spoke the words to him. She flinched and tried not to listen to each one.

"Ready to comply", he said. He looked at her with a disinterested expression. Rumlow smiled.

"We're gonna make you just like that," he told her. "So obedient, granted, it'll make our nights less fun," he sighed with a wistful smile.

"You're a fucking bastard," she blurted out without thinking. She could feel the blood oozing from her skull as he slammed her into the metal rails on the bed. A line of stitches were there now. He told the doctor not to give her medical attention for a few days.

The man from before had taken her to him. He was strapped to the table like some specimen when she walked in, the man with the long black hair stood outside as time froze. They had been touching his metal arm, dissecting it. His eye was swollen, his chest bruised. She made little string with her hands, she had always tried to fix broken things. She spoke to him as he stared up at her. He had spoken before but not now. She couldn't speak now either.

"It's going to be okay. I'm here." His expression didn't change but his eyes followed her.

You shouldn't be here, they said.

But I am.

"Do whatever you have to do, James. Survive. Don't remember this time."

I can't, they replied. His brow furrowed, his face souring. She couldn't tell if he was angry or on the brink of tears. She put her hand on his face.

"Millie's okay." His eyes shined as a small smile broke through.

I know, he mouthed. She placed a hand on her throat.

"Is it okay? They didn't-"

He coughed. She placed her hand on his throat, trying to heal it. He coughed again. She sighed, it wasn't working. Her hand slid off the table and she turned away from him for a moment. Pain flooded her eyes, she didn't want him to see.

"Maybe forgetting will be good for us," he pulled his face back from her. "A new start." His nostrils flared as he turned his head, he couldn't look at her. She put a hand on his flesh shoulder and squeezed lightly. This was something she couldn't fix. "I'm sorry."

"Liar." He coughed out. He was suffering just as much as she was. How could she give up so easily? They could separate them and he'd never find her again. Little Millie was all alone out there. She needed them. At the very least she needed him. He looked at her as she walked away, their eyes met briefly but he knew what she wanted to say.

I never deserved you.

I love you anyway.

They brought the solider in to see at her bruised body as she floated in the tank, she had fallen asleep. He looked her, confused. He felt something but couldn't decide what it was. The way her pale lashes laid across her face and the vibrant red hair around her and the freckles that enveloped her skin.

"Target?" He asked his handler.

"No," he laughed. "Do you know her?"

"No." Rumlow smiled.

"Good."


	61. Liar

"Take the pills," Rumlow ordered. "You'll feel better." He handed her a glass of water as she looked at the colorful capsules and then the men with uncertainty. The doctor watched beside him as she swallowed them, the doctor checked her mouth afterwards with a small flashlight.

"Those were benzos; weren't they?" She asked, her head was foggy now. She knew what they were for. "Lorazepam?" She looked for a hint of an answer in the doctor's face. His eyes twitched. "Why are you sedating me?"

That wasn't their only purpose.

No one answered, Rumlow stood cautiously by the door. She was already losing herself. He pulled a picture from his pocket, the soldier in the tank.

"Who is this?"

"I don't know," she said. It crept towards her subconscious but she wouldn't say it. She couldn't put a name to him but seeing him made her feel safe.

"You're gonna get to know him today," he laughed. "The medicine's gonna make it a little easier on you." He winked. "But not too much."

She leaned against the bed, her stomach churning. "Benzos also cause amnesia." She whispered as she turned back to Rumlow, eyes widening. She kept whispering as she curled on the cot. He could faintly hear it from the doorway. The doctor walked out of the room, shaking his head in pity.

"I am Genevieve. I was born in 1697. I'm a doctor- I was a soldier before that and the lord of Lorraine before that. Daughter to Frederick. Legitimized by _Louis le bien aimé_ on August 27th, 1717 on the steps of Versailles." She kept going and going, bits and pieces of other languages melded into english until she was speaking completely in french. "I destroyed whatever was left of HYDRA in France the summer of 1778 after I found les os de mon père sous le parquet." (the bones of my father under the floor.) Rumlow grabbed the bones of my father under the floor. "Rumlow grabbed the doctor.  
"Sedate her!" He screamed before throwing the man the side and punching her as she spoke.

"J'ai rencontré George Gordon Byron en 1888 par l'amphithéâtre de Rome. Il était mon premier amour. Décédé à Missolonghi, 1824 9 avril. Je lui ai dit de ne pas partir. Je lui ai dit de ne pas me suivre." (I met George Gordon Byron in 1888 by the amphitheater of Rome. He was my first love. Died in Missolonghi, 1824 April 9th. I told him not to leave. I told him not to follow me.) Another hit to the jaw. "Crazy boiteux bâtard." (Crazy lame bastard.) Blood spilled from her mouth. " J'ai rencontré Thomas le 8 juin I829. J'ai vécu dans une auberge jusqu'à ce que je sors pour la Nouvelle-Orléans. Il était un menteur aussi."(I met Thomas on June 8, 1829. I lived in a hostel until I went out to New Orleans. He was a liar too.) She spat," menteur," (liar) over and over again until it was a scream that reverberated in her chest. Rumlow shook her and placed his knee on her chest, drawing out forced breaths.

"You are nothing," he growled. "No past and no future." She hissed as a needle dug its way into her arm.

"Je regarderai toute votre joie se transformer en douleur." (I will watch all your joy turns into pain.) She gasped each word as she spoke. "Tout se passera en cendres." (Everything will go to ashes.) She grabbed his arm, pulling her down to her face. His face contorted in a way that was unreadable, he listened to the ramblings of three hundred year old woman trying to keep everything before it was destroyed. "Comprenez vous?" (Do you understand?) She rasped as her eyes shut. He flung her body onto the bed like she was contaminated. Some infectious disease he could catch and would never be cured of. Her head lulled off the side as her agonized face relaxed. Pierce stood in the corner, watching.

"Think she'll tell us?" Rumlow asked.

"The doctor's think she's broken enough," he said looking down at her unconscious form being carried onto a gurney. "It'll be over soon."

When she woke her head was beating in her skull like a drum. Rumlow sat on the edge of the bed. She put her hand on her head and scrunched her face then pinched the bridge of her nose.

She wasn't sure what had happened but she could still hear the words in her head. Her history, she had to remember the dead at least. Someone.

Anyone.

Then she heard their words. The Russian ones that didn't make any sense to her. When she tried to sit up her stomach felt like it had been split in two. Hollowed even. She groaned, reaching for it. Piece walked over and placed her hand at her side.

"Did I do something?" She asked, looking at them skeptically. Pierce smiled, his teeth showing. It tried to be friendly but it still left chills up her spine.

"Of course not," he laughed," looks like you're gonna need a lot of rest in the coming weeks."

"Really? Why is that?" Just curiosity echoed in her voice, no malice.

"Your appendix burst," he lied. "Its why you fainted. Rumlow saved you." He gestured to the man. "Just in the nick of time too. You were so pale by the time the doctors came in."

She pulled the covers over her lower half and grabbed the shirt she wore so she could see. A small trio of stitches were circling her abdomen. It didn't seem right, she knew what the procedure entailed. He looked away, feigning some human decency. He bent down, pulling it back down and covering her.

"You used to do something for us," he began," a very long time ago. Do you remember?"

"I was a lab rat," she spat, her body tensing and Rumlow's hand grabbed her leg. Pierce eyed him and then focused back on her.

"We'd rather call you an evolutionary anomaly and like any anomaly humankind needed to know what you were made of. HYDRA knows now." He said with a smile."So you don't have to worry about that." He patted her hand, she reflectively moved it closer to her chest holding it.

"I killed?" It wasn't a question, she had but was that was he was leading too.

"Precisely!" He clapped, smiling wider. "You made something very special to do it too and we've never been able to recreate it."

She could hear the sound of metal slicing through an elderly man. A blunderbuss pistol dancing in her hand was it went off, shaking her body. "The sword? My gun?" He shook his head. "We have a present for you."

A doctor helped her slid into a wheelchair. They walked through the stark white halls until he turned into a laboratory. There was a metal table in the middle, the room smelled sweet. It was too familiar to her. She tried to get up to see what was on it. Pierce held out his hand and she used it as leverage.

"Those were mine," she muttered, grabbing a lace cravat and it's jeweled pin, then brown waist coat, next an old linen shirt that seemed to slip through her grasp. Her hands reached for metal that was blinding for her to look at. Fingers brushed the filigree pattern and the deep wood. "How did you?" She rasped out, gripping the gun in one hand and the brown breeches in the other.

"We've held onto them for a long time," he said, grabbing her hand. He reached for the sword on the far end of the table and pulled it out of the halberd. Rumlow looked onward, not betraying the calm of his face. He placed it in her hand. "HYDRA waited for you."

"I don't think I can help you."

The Asset screamed against the mouthguard was the Memory Suppression Machine turned on. It had been hours. They had moved her to different facility and he didn't know if he'd ever see her again. No name was associated with that face anymore. It pained him but there was nothing left of her.

Nothing besides liar and the smell of herbs.


	62. Foxhole

The poem used in this chapter is written by Nathaniel Orion G. K. It's called Foxhole. Winter Soldier starts next chapter so get hyped.

She took one step off the bus, he was there. Her small head bobbed as she happily skipped off the bus. It was an easy shot.

 _1._

 _You can't summon a ghost. A ghost has to come unbidden, uncalled for, undesired; if you want it, it can't haunt you."_

He stared at the small hand under the white sheet, pink charms dangling around the small wrist. A heart, a crown with blue gems, the eiffel tower. He had seen that bracelet, felt those charms braided in his hair by even smaller hands. Brown curls peeked out from the top, a My Little Pony backpack laid on the side of the metal table. His hair color but under the florescent lights it didn't show the copper strands that the sun could make shine. Navy blue nail glitter polish stood out against the paleness of her skin. Tiny familiar freckles still danced on it. All he could hear was an airy laugh.

Your father always liked when I wore navy.

He wanted to count each starry fleck on her nails, it was the closest he would get to her eyes. Glazed and turning white. That was until he looked at his own.

She looks just like you, James.

 _2._

 _I can't stand to bury you alone, so I let my grief lay me beside you, I ease my body down into the open jaws of your grave. The cool wet of the dirt wall feels good beneath my palm, good like the river was good when we waded through it with our shoes in our hands, good like the earth was good when god was through with it._

I don't have a daughter, she mouthed, fists clenched on either side of the table. She wasn't mine. He nodded. She wasn't yours. You've never had children. We're all you've ever known, Genevieve.

Can I see her? Something was off, but she kept the thought to herself.

She's not your daughter.

Will you tell her father and mother? No parent deserves this.

The world around her had been cold once, it chilled her bones and seeped under skin. It left a frost around her in it's wake. A heavy metal necklace pulled her head down making her see her heart for the first time in decades. It opened up the guilt. The descent into madness. You didn't deserve them, the voices rang out. She held a piece of him before burying back in the snow and then laid there. Hoping she could melt away and never come back to the surface.

Names didn't come to her anymore, the cold remained.

But where's the rest of him?

 _3._

 _How many times do I have to answer to your name before I become you, before I bring you back to life? (I want to call out to you, but your name has never failed to burn my tongue.)_

 _How many times do I have to try to die before I catch a glimpse of your reluctant ghost? (Can suicide be considered friendly fire? I consider this while looking down at my gun.)_

Switch it back on.

A scream.

Do it again, higher level. A cold piece of plastic was wedged between his teeth. They muffled his voice again. He wanted to see her again. He wanted her to be wrapped up in someone else's arms, ones that were warm. He was cold, his arm a constant reminder of what he had become. He had watched her leave too many times. Dragged away into an endless winter. Had they made a nickname at her expense?

The Winter Soldier must have seemed like a good fit. A laugh the soviets had before freezing him in his thoughts or as their names left his tongue.

Genevieve had sang sweet songs in other languages to her, a hand over her swollen belly. He pulled back the panel on the door and watched. After they let him out of cryo he would follow the sound of her voice and watch. Once Millie had began to speak he did the same, hearing the same sweet words. When she was young she had lost control over her powers, they dragged him to her. Telling him to calm her down. It didn't matter because Genevieve was already there, holding each other's hands and dancing.

When Millie had been born he snapped and killed half the men stationed to guard him. She had been screaming her first breaths, the beeping of machinery shadowed it. He wanted to see her mother and her, the tiny baby latched to her mother's breast. Genevieve cooing her with words. He wanted to feel her tiny hand around his fingers. Their baby had grown in the dark without them, a place where no light came through.

 _4._

 _The only difference between a grave and a foxhole is whether or not you're alive when you enter it. I sit in the mud with my weapons and armor and wait for the shriek of the gunfire above me to slow, shoulders braced against the wall, serial number and rank pressed behind the backs of my teeth. Whether the name on my dog tags is mine or yours is anyone's guess; they read the same to me._

They're coming over the walls. She nodded, gripping her sword.

Get inside. You won't make it back. The elderly man walked inside the fort leaving his daughter. She held her weapons, commanded the soldiers.

The feeling of warm hands holding her brought her back. The face was a blur, a smudged stain on a piece of paper.

Doll, you can't ever leave me like that again.

She never healed from her time in Austria. She had never healed from any of it. They followed her, his red face still screamed in her mind. Stubby fingers still dug into the lobes and tore the child from her chest.

It's okay. You're safe. I'm here. He spoke in a hurried voice.

It's okay.

You are safe.

I'm here.

She could smell death, the sticky sweetness of it, could feel the curved skull under her fingertips. The family sigil still clipped to his velvet waistcoat.

Pierce stood behind her as she crushed herbs.

Have you had any luck with the poison?

 _5._

 _Here: I give you my heart. I lay it on your lapel and watch it beat, watch it sink into your chest._

 _Here: I give you my body. I lay it next to you, on top of you, surrounding you._

 _You can't transfer a soul through touch,_

 _but I put my mouth to your throat anyway._

He sat on the truck. They were taking him back to the base. The small body laid on a gurney across from him. The charms chimed as the vehicle drove. He placed the small hand under the blanket. He couldn't look at her as he did it, he placed the small hand on her chest.

My little Millie, he muttered to himself. How could I ever forget you?

He rested his head against the sheet.

 _6._

 _You can't love a person back from the dead,_

 _but god, hear my plea:_

 _can't I hope?_

 _Can't I try?_

They both stood over the body. He watched as she had came in.

You shouldn't be here, he said. She laughed.

I have too. They won't take her to her parents. Who will mourn otherwise? He cocked his head, eyes storming over.

Forgetting her was easier than confronting the reality.

They're right here. He whispered as he left the room. They frosted him over, another joke at his expense.


	63. Lilies of the Valley

crimson blood witch: Hope you enjoy this one! :)

* * *

She worked in the little lab they had shoved her in. It was completely white and gray, claustrophobic from it's small size. The smell of mold hitting her nose even with the plants next to her. She knew where she was.

"Take the pills." She took them, watched as they inspected her mouth afterwards. He used a popsicle stick to lift her tongue before leaving. Her eyes turned back to her work, she put on a pair of gloves and continued crushing wolfsbane. Rumlow walked in later with a protein shake in hand and questioned her.

"When were you born?"

"October 8th, 1988. A clinic in Wisconsin," she said effortlessly. They continued like this for sometime. Her parents' names, her hometown….

"Ever had a child?"

She snorted.

"No." His eyes lingered on hers as she side eyed him. "Are you done? I'm nowhere near finished with this." He stood up and nudged his arm between her and the counter. She was trapped in the corner. His fingers brushed her stomach as he lifted her shirt, her hand latched onto his wrist.

"Those stitches are healing nicely," he said looking down at her stomach. He smiled as he caught her expression. "Maybe after my next mission we can start having some fun again. I promised the soldier he could too." The last sentence had a pause as he rubbed his chin. She felt like she was going to throw up. "You're getting far too cushy here."

She raised an eyebrow, forcing the horror back down in the pit of her stomach. It was hard to swallow. He moved his hand and smoothed out her shirt as he looked over the plants growing. Her hands grabbed some powdered seeds from a glass breaker in one hand as he turned his back, she untwisted the lid of his drink with the other as he spoke. He asked questions about each flower and root there. She answered each one as she slipped the powder into his cup and screwed the lid back on. He turned back around, noticing a small plant with purple trumpet like flowers.

"Larkspur."

After he left, drink in hand which let her have a small laugh. It wouldn't kill him but it would….immobilize him. She cut off a few stems off another plant, its green stems raining down with white bulbs.

She placed them on the table and quickly shoved two fingers down her throat, coughing the pills into a nearby sink. Crushing the evidence and watched as they went down the drain. Quietly, she snuck around and ended up in the mortuary. He was still there, sitting in a metal chair next to the body.

"Do you know who she was?" She asked him, laying the flowers on her chest. The cloth still hung over her body.

"No.. but she was important," he said. She had heard him screaming earlier, another wipe. "I don't want to see her face. She was shot through the head."

"We should make sure it's her." His eyes widened and he paused before looking up at her. "Her parents are right here after all." Her hands were in the girl's curls, braiding some of the flowers into it. He could hear her saying sweet words under her breath. " _Ma chérie. Ma petite chérie."_

"Throw those away. They'll know."

"I don't care." Her hands went higher, her fingertips on the edge of the sheet. "I don't think I'll ever believe this is her." They made eye contact for a moment until she broke it and looked back down. "That she's gone."

"Forgetting is the best way to survive." He said in a strange tone like he was being hit with deja vu.

"Do you know me?" She asked, a hand in her thick red curls. He shook his head. "That's good." She gave him a sad smile.

"I know you're a liar."

She laughed, "I learned from the best there is. I hope I can stop soon." She held a hand over her stomach. "They took the future from me and now they're trying to steal my past too."

"I don't think I have one." He stood up as she tried to pull back the blanket, his hand pulling hers back down. "Don't. Please don't." It was barely a whisper. His breath tickled the back of her ear as he spoke. "I don't want to believe it's her either." They could only picture the gaping wound, the nose blown off or an eye. Her lips pulled back exposing her small teeth.

She reached for her hand under the sheets and gave it a firm squeeze.

She sighed, leaning against him. They had dressed him back in his armor, stubble had began growing on his cheeks. How long had they been there?

"I should leave before Rumlow realizes I left the lab. You should too."

"They're cremating the body tomorrow. I'm going to stay here until they notice. You should try and see her one last time." She nodded.

"Will you?"

"I'm getting prepped tonight," his teeth grinded as he clenched his jaw. "I can't."

She shook her head and pulled up a chair next to his. "I'll stay too then. Until they take you." She wanted to say his name but wouldn't let herself. He sat back down next to her.

"We've known each other for a very long time," he said almost questioningly. His face wincing.

"Don't think about it." Her tone was dismissive. "It'll be worse if you do. I don't want you to get attached when they do something to me."

"What do you mean?" She gave him a knowing look.

"Rumlow's got big plans for us, apparently." She chewed at the inside of her mouth, nervously. The fluorescent light's caught something and she shot up, grabbing Millie's hand. "I don't think I ever bought her this color. It was always pinks or purples."

"Why does that matter?" He said, shaking his head disparagingly, locks of greasy hair falling into his face. "How do you even remember that?" She shook her head again.

"I don't know. Maybe you're right." She put her hands through her mane of hair. "Maybe I'm just looking for every possible reason to believe it's another lie."

"I know. I want it to be a lie too."

They sat there in silence, watching her small form. Flowers woven into her hair and a few stems in her hands. The light flickered. He tried to think of something of importance before realizing that they needed this. Fire burned in her eyes, the amber melting around the green.

"How much have they taken from you?" He asked.

"Not as much as they've stolen from you," she muttered, dragging a hand across her face. "Dates and names are becoming a blur. Faces too. I can't fight them off anymore."

"Why?"

"Would you believe me if I told you I was a god once?" He eyed her

"No." She snorted.

"I wouldn't either." There were no clocks in the room so she wasn't sure if it had been a half hour or three hours. She didn't want him to suffer anymore because of her. "I'm going now." He watched as she stood up.

"Be safe."

"You too."

Her night was spent being strapped down the machine and then submerged into the tank. Rinse, wash, repeat…

By the time she was taken back to her room she could hardly stand, using her hands to crawl from the door to the bed. Her body shook as she heaved herself onto the mattress. She laid on her stomach trying to normalize her breathing, that were coming out in gasps like a goldfish. It took a few minutes to calm down, she pushed her salty smelling hair out of her face and rested her head on the pillow. Footsteps were behind her as cool metal sliced through her top. She thought she was safe for tonight but she wasn't as Rumlow laughed behind her.

"All lessons through pain," he said as the knife dug into her shoulder and was forced down her back. She shrieked. The metal hit the bones of her shoulder blades and every nerve in between them. Her hands tried to reach behind her and stop him, something cold grabbed them and pinned them against the bedframe. "The asset needed to have some fun before tomorrow." Her body tried to pull her knees to her chest, maybe she could kick Rumlow off and… she wasn't sure what she'd do after that as his blue eyes looked at her in the darkness. There couldn't have been anything left of him. "I'm not feeling so well tonight. I think he'll manage though." He continued making slices down her back, his body behind her and keeping her lower half still. Using his knife he motioned to the soldier who used his flesh hand to keep her hair away from Rumlow's knife and off her back. He laughed as he cut, turning to the long haired man. He took a step back, viewing his work. "It's good, right?"

He said nothing, her hands tried fruitlessly to pull away from his grasp. Her face was covered with snot and tears as blood pooled off her skin that was slick with sweat.

When Rumlow cut through her clothes and nudged the soldier to take his place behind her. She tried to scream as she felt his hand in her mouth, keeping her quiet as he completed his task. He let go of her hands and tried to finish as quickly as tried to look at him but he refused to, using his free hand to force her head into the pillow. She closed her eyes as he drove through her. Rumlow prodded him and grabbed her by the hair, making comments about her pretty face and how lucky she was to get all the attention she was.

He cupped her mouth with his hand, feeling how she was about to spit at his handler. Rumlow kept her awake as her eyes drooped, trying to sleep through their actions. He dug his fingers into the fresh skin of her back. It was wrong. The soldier could feel his metal hand wanting to lash out at the man. His training stopped him. He couldn't stop. They would never let him.


	64. Burned

Blood still lingered in the room as a blonde woman yanked Genevieve up and into a shower. Her skin was cracked with dried blood, her lip busted and peeling from the inside. She couldn't begin to count how many bruises she saw as she opened her eye. The other was too swollen. She eyed the woman, her clear blue eyes and shining blonde hair. Her body was pushed onto a bench as water hit her. It was freezing. Her body shivered.

She had been wearing clothes the night before...she blamed the gash on her head for forgetting what had happened. It all rushed back to her as her eye hollowed out any emotion. Her throat was raw as she tried to speak.

The woman, Pierce's daughter, she assumed by the resemblance dragged a wash cloth over her skin.

"From what I know, Zola used to help you bathe when you were," she paused, looking for the right word, "ill. At least you've got a little privacy now. Just us girls."

She chuckled, throwing her head back. "Was that your idea of a joke?" It was spoken in a coughing fit.

The blonde eyed her and gripped her freckled shoulder. She kept from wincing as the towel ran down her back. Arguably, she should have kept her mouth shut. The air around her began smelling fruity as the woman shampooed her hair. She swatted her hands away, doing it herself. Luckily now, her hair covered her face and kept the blonde from seeing her pained expression. "Where's Rumlow?"

Silence. It shouldn't have hurt so much to put her hands over her head. A part of her didn't even want to see it. It took her too long and the woman forced her hands down on either side of the stool. Waiting until the water ran clear she conditioned it. It was too cold. "You have such pretty curls."

"When's Rumlow coming back?"

Silence again. She could feel a burning anger growing inside. The woman wrapped a towel around her and helped her onto her feet. She gripped onto a rail as the woman pulled her legs through a pair of sweatpants.

"Are you Pierce's daughter? Jennifer, right?"

"Jenny's fine." So it could answer questions. She put a shirt on Genevieve, looping her head and arms through it roughly. She bit her broken lip to keep the hiss back. "We've gotta get you back to the lab. You've got a lot of work to do." She smiled at her, it was faker than anything Genevieve had ever seen. "Let's go, old poisons don't make themselves. I'm here to help you."

 _Let's not get too fucking giddy_ , she thought to herself, trying to keep her body away from Jennifer as she pulled her through the halls. The woman sat on a chair in front of the computer as she blended up powders and went through the many concoctions she could make. It had been fast acting and relatively painless. She didn't think anyone had ever even known what was happening. They were no records of it because of that, all she had ever told HYDRA was that death had been certain.

"I need moutain laurel," she told the girl, looking through the plants. Jennifer looked at her suspiciously.

"How did you get that in France?" She feigned ignorance, acting with the story Rumlow had been feeding her for the past month. A part of her wished it was true. " Mountain laurel only grows on the East Coast."

"What are you talking about? I've never left the U.S." She cocked her head. The girl laughed.

"You're right," she placed a hand on her arm. "I'll get it for you."

Her next batch wouldn't be painless.

He sat on the machine as they fixed his arm. It hurt but he wouldn't show it. The two scientists whirled around him, shoving an electric probe into his arm.

"Sergeant Barnes…" This was something old, he fell into the snow. Someone was screaming his name. The man on the bridge.

"Bucky, no!" They dragged him through the snow. The soviets. Where was his arm? There was blood everywhere. His dog tag was yanked from his neck and thrown into the snow. Just like at Lehigh. His brows furrowed.

The stubby scientist.

"The procedure has already started." His arm was gone and he could feel them shaving the flesh around the wound. He saw his metal hand for the first time. His fingers grabbed the nearest scientist. The stubby one smiled as he shoved a needle into his chest. "You are to be the new fist of HYDRA," he turned to the other men. "Put him on ice." His body flinched in the present his blank eyes showing some emotion. He was angry. Scared even. The scientist beside him probed again and he knocked him over with his left arm.

Pierce and Rumlow walked in, flanked by guards. One pointed his gun at him to stop him attacking anyone else. His eyes glazed back over.

"Sir, he's...he's unstable," he looked over to the soldier, "Erratic." Pierce stood in front of him.

"Mission report." He eyed him down, crouching to make eye contact. "Mission report, now." He raised his voice. He moved closer and slapped him hard. His head jerking to the side and pushing strands of hair into his face..

"The man on the bridge…" He could remember the man from the bridge, the man from the train saying his name. "Who was he?"

"You met him earlier this week on another assignment." He lied.

"I knew him." Pierce sat down in front of Bucky.

"Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped this century, and I need you to do it one more time. Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos. Tomorrow morning we're gonna give it a push. But if you don't do your part, I can't do mine, and HYDRA can't give the world the freedom it deserves."

He could hear a woman's voice oozing skepticism at the 'one last time part.' He saw a white sheet. The woman from the night before, his eyes clenched shut. He didn't want to remember that.

"But I knew him." Pierce turned to the scientists. They looked at the soldier, hints of fear in their eyes.

"Prep him." His jaw clenched at the man's words. He knew what was happening. He didn't want to forget.

"He's been out of cryo-freeze too long." The man argued back.

"Then wipe him and start over." The scientists strapped the soldier into the chair and then shoved a mouth guard into his mouth. He could hear the machine turning on behind him. Whirling back into consciousness as his faded away with every scream.

She could hear him again. Her body froze, tensing up. The woman didn't raise an eyebrow. "Don't you have more work to do?" She continued to blend the powders into a paste, adding the boiled down remnants of leaves and petals. Her body wanted to give up, her vision blurring. Small tears escaped her eyes as she turned away her, letting her see nothing but her back. She didn't know why but her body took control, forcing her mind somewhere else. All rational thought leaving her. He had let Rumlow mutilate her, he raped her. She couldn't remember his name anymore, many of their memories faded from the echoes of her mind.

Their daughter was a pile of ashes now. The woman had refused to let her see her one last time. Her hands tightened their grip around a beaker, shattering the glass.

"Genevieve?" Her hands grabbed the mortar bowl, it was heavy in her hands. Blood dripped from her fingertips. It fell onto the floor. "Let me get the first aid kit." She said, false concern. Jennifer bent down into a cabinet, the redhead stood behind her with the bowl in hand. She reeled back and slammed down hard, bashing her head in with it until she lost consciousness.

"Rumlow said," she gasped. "You were wiped." Another gasp. Another bash to the top of the skull. "Docile."

"I don't need another **fucking** chaperone," she said through gritted teeth, annunciating each word with a hit to the skull. She exerted too much energy as Jennifer finally went down. She was still alive.

Genevieve's body was aching, her back was in too much pain. She must have cracked the scab with all of her movement. It was soaking through the back of her sweater. She dug through a drawer and found the old musket.

No gun powder. It was just an antique. It didn't matter. She ran through the door, trying to remember where the machine was. She didn't get far. She flung the gun at a guard, watching him fall backwards at the impact. Using her arms, she rolled back into a handstand and kicked another. Clenching her teeth in pain the entire time. Another gave her a swift kick to the back knocking her over.

They dragged her into the room as they pulled him out. He was unconscious, his head limping in front of his body. She reached for him before pulling back, the images of everything he'd done to her.


	65. The Last Head

He tucked a strand of black hair behind his ear as he waited for her to get dressed. The blonde wig snug against her head and a small pink baseball cap. A light denim jacket for the cool spring air, a purple shirt, and shorts. His magic had worked, everything falling into place.

Genevieve stared blankly at the wall, her body felt like it had been torn apart. Her arms and legs were tied to the hospital bed and even if they weren't she wouldn't have bothered moving anyway. The door opened, she didn't bother making eye contact as the body made the mattress dip. Not until she heard something.

A familiar hymn.

Her hymn.

She looked up at the man beside her. He had dark red hair with white streaks on one half of his head, not very different from her own. It ended in a messy cut around his shoulders. His nose was wider at the tip that hers but shared her freckled skin. He had a moustache of light hair, it wasn't thick and was closer looking to patchy peach fuzz. It was under his chin and the sides of his face. He was healing her, his hands gliding over her legs as he started from the bottom and moved to her chest.

"They have taken much from you, sister," his pale green eyes bore into her. "I'm here to take you home." He smiled, "Give you your powers back." He placed his hand over her stomach. "Your womb."

Her throat was dry. "Where's home?"

"Vanaheim. Mother and father gave you away. You escaped though." His face didn't emote as he spoke, his brows staying perfectly straight. Hers furrowed as she tried to lift her head up. "But you have things here?" He pulled out a dagger. She tried to move away, fearing the worst. He cut the straps that held her down.

"What's your name?" She rubbed at her wrists as she sat up.

"Hakon. The trickster told you you had no one. He lied."

"It's what he's good at." She stated dryly. She reached out to his chest, not believing he was completely real. He wore gold armor embellished with silver leaves and vines, it had nicks and scratches in the metal. "How did you find me?"

"Thor came to our city and I fought alongside him. He told me about you," he spoke quietly. "The minute he mentioned your powers," he held her hand up, watching white strands drift in the air from her fingertips. "I knew you were our Katja."

She shook her head. "Genevieve." He cocked his head.

"No, not Genevieve. Katja, daughter of Bjornn and Aslaug. I am your brother Hakon and I am here to help you. You have spent too much time away from Yggdrasil and now you are weak." She shook her head.

"My father is Frederick." He sighed. "I had a daughter with a man that these people are hurting and I can't leave him." His eyes widened and turned to her, his hand reached out and held her shoulder then caressed her cheek

"Aesir and humans cannot mate."

"Well, I did." She huffed. "He's not a normal human anymore."

"What happened to the girl?" She pulled away from him and he understood. "I- I'm sorry. He stuttered out. "I didn't realize-" He stood up, grabbing her hands and helped her to her feet. His eyes were large and had pronounced bags under them that only looked worse under the florescent lighting. "I will help you-"

"But I don't want to leave him-"

"No, I will help get something you need." He placed an arm behind her and helped her walk. She had been used to having to wobble the halls on her own, it was weird having help. His cloak billowed behind them as he walked. It smelled of blood. There was nothing to be heard in the building. She watched him, how he moved, how his face changed as he looked back and forth through the halls. His face didn't have the structure hers did. He seemed softer, his jaw wasn't sharp and when he moved it back the fuzz pushed forward to his chin. Two bumps at the tip of his nose stood out and kept it from looking flat. They shared high cheek bones though and had the same lower lip that was far larger than the top one. He opened a door to the laboratory, she sat down on a chair that he lead her too. Her fingers jumped at the computer, typing furiously. She watched a video of a helicarrier plunging into the Potomac being broadcasted live, two more still flew. Thousands of documents had flooded the web, encrypted HYDRA files. Of her and the Asset- the Soldat, and their daughter. Their twisted lives left for the world to see.

Hakon walked around the room plucking plants off stems and vines. He paired a few plants together, grinding them in the mortar and pestle. He seemed at a loss when he tried to read her handwriting on the jars of power she had made. She told him what each one was.

"You should change," he said to her, glancing at the sheer hospital gown. She shrugged. "I will find something suitable."

"Don't bother. They'll just tear it off." His hands reached for his sword.

"I would not worry about them touching you anymore." He smiled at her. "I brought you a gift." His hand grabbed hers and they walked back through the halls. She could hear muffled screams.

A woman's.

His rough hands placed a vial in hers. "You made something very similar a long time ago, yes?" He half asked. She flinched, almost dropping it. Why would he give her this? A flicker of fear danced across her face. "Friends are waiting in there for you." Her hands hesitantly reached for the handle.

Jennifer sat in a chair, bound and gagged. Pierce sat on the floor across from her with his mouth gagged and handcuffed to two pipes on either side of him that jutted out of the wall, a bullet wound near his chest. It had been healed, she turned to Hakon and he nodded. She took a deep breath and walked over to his daughter, hands on the cloth between her teeth. The girl's blue eyes widened as she smiled down at her.

"Last time I killed HYDRA I left out the children," she murmured in her ear as she bent down. The lines in her face deepened as she tried to pull away, Genevieve's hands gripped her hair and forced her to stay still. "You're an only child if I'm not mistaken?"

Her attention turned to Pierce as he tried to stand up, trying to speak through the cloth. Sweat forming on his forehead as he grunted. "She's very beautiful, Pierce. The platinum blonde hair, the full lips-"

This was the woman who had first came, the one who strode to the tank like she was a queen stepping over her fallen enemies. Not the meek thing that screamed as the Asset and Rumlow tortured her. This was the woman who ruled Lorraine and fought against the Germans over two-hundred years ago.

"I imagine you have a soft spot for her like any father does for their daughter." Hakon smiled as she flipped the lid off the vial. He hadn't came to her to watch her vengeance but he saw Aslaug's fury in her eyes. Their father's calm demeanor. She turned to him, it swayed as he focused on it.

"You killed my daughter-"

He tried to speak, explain it to her but she ignored him.

"Why did you hurt her?! She was good! She was pure and kind!" She raised her voice before lowering it, her eyes starting to water. "She was my baby. My only daughter." Her free hand grabbed Pierce's shoulder and forced him onto his knees. He was crying as he tried to speak. "It's so difficult to understand you, Alexander." He was saying 'please'. Over and over again. "I'll make you understand my pain."

She walked back to Jennifer, hands going to the back her head, and pulling open the knot with one hand. "This is an old blend of mine." His eyes widened as he tried to push his tongue through the gag, his body jumping back up. "Quite spry for an old man?" She joked before looking back at the vial. "It's not the one you wanted but still." She said, eyeing the clear liquid. "I gave this to the man who killed my father all those years ago." Hakon walked over and grabbed the blonde's head and pried her mouth open as she spilled the contents of the vial into the girl's mouth, massaging her throat to help swallow it. He untied her, she wobbled, her hands going to her head trying to soothe the pain under the skin.

"You will both die in this room. You can watch as her body decays as the smell of death permeates this room. How the skin slips off the bone and the body bloats," she said, going back to him. "You've lost and that's the only thing that's keeping the melancholy at bay."

He tried to scream as his daughter convulsed in front of him, her skin growing purple and blue. Veins turning into tar as her eyes became bloodshot, her head whipping back and forth from the lack of oxygen. He tried to lunge past Genevieve as she watched the two of them struggle to reach the other. She started choking on her own bile, she couldn't turn her head to keep it from blocking her windpipe. Her hands reached for her throat but did nothing to save her.

A gunshot to the head never would have sufficed. He needed to feel everything she felt.

She smiled at him as she walked away, feeling a high unlike any other. He couldn't plead. He couldn't move.

He was as helpless as they all had been. Hakon lead her out and she watched as with a wave of his hand the door disappeared.

"No one will find them now." He said, quietly. "I have one more thing to show you." He grabbed her forearm and dragged her through the halls-

Back to that room. That machine.

The man with the long black hair stood by the door and grabbed her other arm. She started fighting against them. A scientist hid in the corner, following them.

"You lied to me! They killed her!" She screamed at Loki, trying to dig her feet into the file. "Let me go!" She turned her head at the sound of a ringtone. Her heart dove to the sound of the noise, it emanating from the side of the room.

The small body with the curly brown hair, the little freckles-

It had been almost three months.

She was breathing, her body was still- sleeping but breathing. A blonde wig thrown to the side, a pink hat with it. Hakon looked at her, stopping for a minute.

"You knew," she hissed at him. He tried to diminish his body and hide from her gaze.

"I'm sorry. It was the only way."

"Millie!" He had to be on his way, her father would be here soon and they could escape. He wouldn't be able to fight them but he could take Millie far away from here.

Loki smiled down at her. "I promised safety to her- not you." They forced her body into the chair as she screamed. She felt the plastic being pushed between her teeth. The machine turned on, stars danced across her vision as she felt their hands against her stomach and heard a soft hymn. Her body felt like it was growing something it had lost. Tearing her abdomen apart, she tried to fight back, flailing against them. She could hear Loki chanting under his breath.

"Forget, forget, please forget," over and over again. The last thing he could remember was being thrown back.


	66. The Dream

I redid this a little. Got some help so hopefully its better now. :)

Crimsonbloodwitch: Hope you like this one too! Side note this chapter title should sound familiar. It's been mentioned before. Hehehe :]

* * *

"Doll, what're you doing down there?" She raised a hand to her head, it stung horribly. She massaged at her temples. A hand was waiting for her and she hesitated. He was familiar as looked down at her but the name escaped her. He wore an old military uniform, his hat cocked slightly and his voice spoke with concern. She could see that this was a different time. She wore a knee length navy skirt and a white blouse with a pair of nylons and beige heels. Her eyes squinted and her brows furrowed. She raised a hand to her face and then between them

"What's-" He grabbed her hand and helped her up, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"We gotta go pick up our girl," he said. "We're already late."

"Wait, what?" He shook his head with a snort, stopping in front of her to check her head.

"Must've been a harder fall than I thought," he ran his fingers over the crown of her head. "Your heel got caught in the sidewalk." She placed a hand on her face and noticed she was wearing makeup. Pale powder stuck in the map of her fingertips with a pinkish red rouge. Mascara clumped on her lashes. He stared at her dumbfounded. "Now you're messin' up your lipstick! What happened to wanting to look spiffy?"

"Spiffy for what?" He laughed.

"I told Becky and Ma that you'd lose your mind being in that kitchen all day, everyday. You just ain't that kinda woman." Her brows knitted and she pursed her lips as he laughed. "It's date night! Stevie's watching the kids."

She repeated the last sentence, elongating the words questioningly. She added, "something's off."

"Wow, you're real wacky today," he dragged her by the arm. "We gotta get Millie. Oh, hey look there's Steve!"

"You picking up yours too," Steve shouted from across the street. The brunette laughed, waving him over.

"Hows little Joey? I haven't seen him around the block much."

"He's been helping Peggy around the house. Number two is on the way so he knows I need all the help I can get," he said with a laugh. "You guys are losing to us!"

"I know Ma keeps chasing Evie and I down with 'I want a grandson' this and that. I keep telling her these things take time," he spoke with an exhausted edge to his voice. "Even then Millie just turned seven!"

They walked up to the school, the men spoke to each other their sharing old stories. He kept his arm around her, looking at her every so often with a twinkle in his eyes and a smile plastered across his face.

She tried to keep her emotions controlled when the bell rang. A deep breath in and she held it until she ran out. The little girl with a pink ribbon in her brown ringlets, a purple plaid dress behind her as she ran, clutching something close to her.

"Hey Mama, I-" She didn't get the chance to speak as she pulled her into a hug. She forced nagging feelings down into the pit of her stomach. She wanted to enjoy this moment.

"How was school today, Cherie?" Genevieve asked her, placing a hand on each of her shoulders. Her father smiled as he scrunched her hair. It should've been like this.

She couldn't begin to describe how perfect this all was.

"I won the Science Fair," she exclaimed, holding up a poster board with detailed pictures of constellations. "Uncle Steve helped me draw em' too." She pointed to a sloppily drawn centaur. Her father chuckled.

"They've gotta learn," he muttered to the blonde. A boy with mousy blonde hair darted out of the building, bright blue eyes identical to his father's. "Look, it's little Joey."

"Ew. Cooties," the boy said as he looked at Millie. She tilted her head at him, intrigued with a slight blush on her cheeks.

"Flynn doesn't think I have cooties," she muttered, looking over at a boy with messy dark hair and thick glasses.

"That's cause you've got a crush," he crossed his arms over his chest, his lower lip jutting out. She watched as her father's eyes widened.

"No way, you're too young and-"

"And he has to ask you first," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Exactly." They spoke for a little while, Genevieve just watched them with a smile, laughing at the kids every so often. This was perfect. They were both there.

"Evie, ya coming back to us?" He asked, still jovial as he nudged her. "Stevie's gonna walk the kids home so we can get on with tonight." He winked at her making her turn a pale pink. She smiled and took his arm, waving as the children and Steve walked away. They walked quietly through the streets of Brooklyn. He pointed to old cars as they drove past and the alleyways he had saved Steve in. All of it felt like a lifetime ago. It was charming, everyone seemed so happy. The world was painted in pastels, women with gloved hands and men in suits. Occasionally they'd tip their hats at him and thank him for his service, noticing his crisp uniform. It was hard for her to not smile, it hurt her cheeks by the time they walked to the theater. Nothing felt right though. The lights were blinding as she looked at it. She raised a hand in front of her face, shielding herself from their rays.

"Two for _To Catch a Thief_ please?" He asked, bending down so he could make eye contact with the teller. Her eyes blinked, she shouldn't have been here. She should've been in Asia traveling to Vietnam. It was going to start soon. Puffs of orange and the screaming children.

The two dogs barking at ghosts.

"You two are so cute," the older woman exclaimed. "When did you get married? I remember when you were just a little fella!"

"Got hitched to this lovely lady," he pulled her closer, his hands around her hips," during the war. She was a nurse . I found a proper European woman even got her a fancy parisian ring." He laughed, holding her hand. The woman nodded, smiling at his antics. She looked at her left hand and saw nothing on her ring finger. He pulled her into the building, releasing her hand. Her eyes went to his left arm and saw his hand glinting in the theater's lighting. She stood still as she tried to piece everything together.

He went to the concession stand, buying a bag of popcorn and a bottle of soda. She leaned against the wall, looking at the filigree of the ceiling above them. Everything seemed darker, the bright yellow of the signs was now a dusty stained brown. The lights flickered as he walked back. He dropped the bag as he saw her slip onto the floor.

It was empty and covered in ants as it hit the burgundy carpet.

"We should go home," she stuttered out to him as she tried to stand up with him. He looked at her in confusion. This wasn't right. The feelings rose back from her gut, spilling through her mouth before she could even think.

The soda bottle was stained, the label tore off.

"What're you talking about? The movies gonna start soon!" He lead her by the hand, "you're acting so screwy today, doll. I don't know what's gotten into you."

"It's not right!" Tears were pooling in her eyes. "Who even are you?!"

 _None of this was apart of the deal._

He cupped her face in his hands, one cold and one warm. A metal finger brushed a stray tear away. "Doll, it's me, your.." His lips moved but no sound came out. She shook her head in disbelief. Everything should've been okay, this is what she always wanted. Uneasiness consumed her. He pulled her into his chest, heat radiating off of him. "Shhh, Evie, shhh. Let's talk this out."

They walked over by the theater and turned into a door that had stairs that lead to the projector booth. Before he could even it his lips slammed against hers. She pulled away in confusion before he began cradling the back of her head in his hand, forcing her closer. It was needy, they hadn't been this way in so long. They were waves against one another until he pulled away breathless.

Butterflies fluttered in her core. The fear remained in the background as she tried to enjoy whatever she had been thrown into.

"Doll, I-"

"Don't," she muttered, leaving kisses along his neck. "I'm sorry." Her fingers trailed down to the buttons of his coat, popping them open. "I shouldn't have gotten so worked up. I'm just scared"

He placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her blouse down around her elbows, the buttons sliding open.

"Of what?" He asked as his coat fell to the ground with a heavy thud, the metal echoing off the tile. His hands went to her thighs and cupped her bottom under the thick twill of her skirt as he held her up to his body. Long speckled legs hugging his waist. His body pinned her against the wall behind her.

"Losing you all over again."

"I'm here, Evie. I always have been." He ran a hand through her curls.

He put kisses down her neck and collarbone, leaving little marks in his awake. His teeth nipped at the skin of her breast before pushing it out of the cup of her bra, teasing it with the tip of his tongue. She moaned and he placed a hand over her mouth.

"You're too loud, Doll," he laughed as other his hand went between them and pushed up her skirt. The one over her mouth snaked it's way under her bottom, squeezing lightly as he rubbed her through the lace of her panties. She grinded against him, biting her lower lip, a bright flush spreading across her freckled face.

She could hear people arguing in the booth above them

 _This isn't what we agreed upon-_

 _Does it matter anymore?_

 _I didn't know about the girl!_

She grinded against him harder, a gasp leaving her mouth. He leaned into her shoulder, whispering.

"You're so wet. I've barely touched you, Evie." Her hand touched his face.

"You're real," she muttered, looking into his steely blue eyes. He smiled, his hands on her shoulders.

"Of course I'm real," he snorted, kissing her again as a finger made it's way past the lace and against her entrance.

 _You waited over a hundred years! She wasn't supposed to get attached to these people!_

She moaned into his ear as he grabbed one of her hands with his free one, pushing further and picking up his pace. Hers went down to the bulge of his uniform, opening the button with her thumb. "Please," she whispered. He lined himself up with her, forcing her panties to the side. His hand grabbing both her hands and putting them over her head. She squirmed as his length slowly made it's way inside of her, adjusting to him. He panted as he went in small thrusts, taking his time and making sure she was comfortable. She gasped as he went completely out and them slammed back into her, her head knocking against the wall. The sound of one of her heels hitting the ground rang in her ears.

Her eyes dazed, getting hazy from the force of his movements.

When her vision returned his hair had grown, brushing against his shoulder, his shirt gone. The red star shinning under the dim lights. She couldn't see the features of his face but could hear his voice as he whispered sweet nothings to her. He didn't have his strong accent anymore. This wasn't her sweet Sergeant.

Their grunts filled the alcove as the people above them continued to bicker. He grunted as he began going faster into her.

"Sstop," she moaned, it hurt. She felt like he was ripping her open. "Please, that's too much."

He grunted, tearing off her blouse. His pace only quickened. Her garters snapped off her nylons. His metal hand tore off her bra next, it hung on the sides of her frame as her cleavage spilled out.

It looked like he smiled. She tried to scream but he placed a finger in her mouth, muffling her. When he finished, he let her fall down and said something to her in Russian. She could feel him dripping down her thighs she stood back up.

She knew this man's name.

This isn't what she wanted. She darted up the stairs, kicking a heel down the staircase below her as she went. He was no longer in his uniform, the khaki pants now replaced with his black tactical suit. Her hands went to conceal herself with the shreds of her blouse.

She slammed her hands against the door to the projector room. Two men were arguing inside.

 _This isn't what my family wanted! Look at how much pain she's been in since you left her here!_

 _You think the alternative would've been better then._

"Asset. Stop please-" She screamed as he closed the distance between them. He grabbed her forearms and roughly forced her face against the glass window on the door. She could hear him pull out a knife as he cut through her skirt. The material fell at her feet as he yanked at her hips.

The shirt was shreds in his hands as threw the rest of it onto the floor as well. His fingers ran over the wounds on her back.

 _Longing._

He tied her hands behind her back, her fingers still trying to push him away.

 _Rusted,_

 _Seventeen,_

"Please, stop. Please stop who's saying those words," she begged as he looked into her eyes.

His eyes said one thing to her: we can never go back.

 _Daybreak,_

 _Furnace,_

"Stop," she screamed as his hands made her legs tremble, they went back to the bundle of her nerves between them. His length brushed up against her. Neither one of them had ever wanted this.

She gasped as he pushed through her warmth again, her legs buckling underneath her with every thrust. Her body wasn't ready for this. She wasn't done healing. They hadn't fixed her insides yet.

 _Nine,_

 _Benign,_

She tried to pull her hands against the cloth in a feeble attempt to rip it. He grabbed her wrists in one hand and held her to him. This never should have been them. No one should've had to resort to this. They should've lived their quaint life in Brooklyn far away from this.

She screamed at him but he said nothing, his hand holding her up by her abdomen. She wanted this to be over with. Tears welled up in her eyes as she felt her core tightening.

"Not yet," he said.

 _Homecoming,_

"Not until I tell you too." He forced her back against his chest, slowing down from the torturous pace.

 _One,_

"Now," he grunted, the hand on her abdomen reaching up. She could feel his fingers around her neck as she woke. gasping for air.

 _Freight Car._


End file.
